DIVINITY SCHOOL 


LIBRARY 


- BY THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, A. M. 


Pes 
' . LATE piace ee OF LINCOLN COLLEGE. 


es ae 


* N EW-YORK: f 


a... AND T. wie FOR THE METHODIST ee 
L CHURCH IN THE UNITED STATES, = 


J.C. Totten, printer. v 


“Weeeesocaces 


1818, 


EXTRACT meer 
FROM 
MR. LAW’S SERIOUS CALL 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 


CHAPTER I. « 


Concerning the Nature and Extent of Christian 
Devotion. Ne 


1. Devorion is neither private nor public prayer ; 
but prayers, whether private or public, are particu- 
Jar parts or instances of devotion. Devotion sig- 
nifies a life devoted to God. 

He therefore is the devout man, who lives no longs 
er to his own will, or the way and spirit of the world, 
but to the sole will of God; who considers God in 
every thing, who serves God in every thing, who 
makes all the parts of his common life, parts of 
piety, by doing every thing in the name of God, 
and under such rules as are conformable to his 
glory. . a 

2. We readily acknowledge, that God alone is 
to be the rule and measure of our prayers; that in 
them we are to look wholly unto him, and act 
wholly for him; that we are only to pray in sucha 


manner, for such things, and such ends, as are suita-_ 


ble to his glory. 

Now let any one but find out the reason why he is 
to be thus strictly pious in his prayers, and he will 
find the same as strong a reason to be as strictly 

Pa * 


= 


* 


4, A SERIOUS CALE 
pious in all the other parts of his life. For there is 


r s r ¢ 3 = 4 ic) 
rule and measure of our prayers, why we shou oe 


_ not the least reason why we should make ool 


_ 


then look wholly unto him, and pray according to 


“his will; but what equally proves it necessary for us 


to look wholly unto God, and make him the rule and 
measure of ail the other actions of our life. Were it 
not our strict duty to live by reason, to devote all the. 
actions of our lives to God; were it not absolutely 
necessary to walk before himin wisdom and holiness, 
and all heavenly conversation, doing every thing in 
his name and for his glory, there would be no excel- 
lency or wisdom in the most heavenly prayers; nay,” 
such prayers would be absurdities; they would be 
like prayers for wings, when it was no a, of our 


‘duty to fly. 


3. As sure therefore as there is any wisdom in 


praying for the Spirit of God, so sure is it, that we 


are to make that Spirit the rule of al? our actions ; 
as sure as it is our duty to look wholly unto God in 
our prayers, so sure is it, that it is our duty to live 
wholly unto God in our lives. But we can no 
more be said to live unto God, unless we live unto 
him in all our ordinary actions, unless he be the rule 
and measure of all our ways, than we can be said to 
pray unto God, unless our prayers look wholly unto- 
him. So that unreasonable and absurd ways of life, 
whether in dabour or diversion, whether they con- 
sume our fime or our money, are like unreasonable 
and absurd prayers, and are as truly an offence unto 
God. 

4. It is for want of knowing, or at least consider- 
ing this, that we see such a maxture of ridicule in the 
lives of many people. You see them strict as to 
some times and places of devotion; but when the 
service of the church is over, they are but like those 


that seldom or.never come there. In their way of — 
life, Beir manner of spending their t?me and money, 


a “” 
i 


4 hats = 


"70 A HOLY LIFE. 5 


in their cares and fears, in their pleasures and indul- 

-gences, in their labour and diversions, they are like- 

the rest of the world. This makes the loose part 
of the world generally make a jest of those that are _ 
devout, because they see their devotion goes no far- 
ther than their prayers, and that they live no more 
unto God, till the time of prayer returns again; but | 
live by the same humour and fancy, and in as full 
an enjoyment of all the follies of life as other peo- 
ple. This is the reason why they are the jest of. 
worldly people; not because they are really devo-> 
ted to God, but because they appear to have no 
other devotion, but that of occasional prayers. 

___ 5. Julius is very fearful of missing prayers: all 
the parish supposes Julius to be sick, if he is not 
at church. But if you was to ask him, Why he 
spends the rest of his time by humour or chance ? 
Why he is a companion of the silliest people in 
their most silly pleasures? Why he is ready for 
every impertinent entertainment and diversion? If 
you was to ask him why there is no amusement too 
trifling to please him? Why he gives himself up to 
anidle gossiping conversation? Why he lives in 
foolish friendships for particular persons, that nei- 
ther want nor deserve any particular kindness ? 
If you ask him why he never puts his conversation, 
his time, and fortune, under the Rules of Religion, 
Julius has no more to say for himself than the most 
disorderly person. For the whole tenor of scrip- 
ture lies as directly against sucha life,as against de= — 
bauchery and intemperance. He thatlivesinsucha _ 
course, lives no more according to the religion of — 
Jesus Christ, than he that lives in gluttony and in- 
temperance. 

Ifa man was to tell Julius, that there was no oc- 
casion for so much constancy at prayers, and that 
he. might neglect the service of the church, as the 
generality of people do, Julius would think appar 

“ A2 ae 


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he 


j | a + \¢ 


r ¥ 
ee A SERIOUS CALL 


one to be no Christian, and that he Hy ca to avoid 
-“his company : but if a person only tell him, that he 
Dig: Rats, . = 
4 hal as the generality of the world does, that 
“he may enjoy himself as others do, that he may 
; - ‘spend his dime and money as people of fashion do, 
. Mint he may conform to the follies and frailties of the 
-. generality, and gratify his temper and passions as 
_» most people do, Julius never suspects that mam to 
» _-want a Chrisian spirit, or that he is doing the devil’s 
work. Re (th. 
> 6. The short of the matter is this: Either reason 
__ and religion prescribe rules and ends to all the or- 
} dinary actions of our lives, or they do not: if they 
do, then itis as necessary to govern all our actions 
| by those rules as it is necessary to worship God. 
For ifreligion teaches us any thing concerning eat- 
ing and drinking, or spending our time and money ; 
if it teaches us how we are to use the world; if it 
tells us what tempers we are to have in common life, 
how we are to be disposed towards all-people, how 
-we are to behave towards the sick, the poor, the 
old and destitute; if it tells us whom we are to 
treat with a particular love, whom we are to regard 
ae as , “cs ~~ 
with a particular esteem; if it tells us how we are to 
treat our enemies, and how we are to deny ourselves, 
he must be very weak that can think these parts of 
religion are not to be observed qvith as much ewact- 
ness as any doctrines that relate to prayers. 
7. Our blessed Saviour and his apostles are 
wholly taken uw vaiiee cide relate to or 
_ life. - They call us to differ in every temper and wa: 
as aA life ar the spirit and way of ihn ems to “ 
{ nounce all its goods, to fear none of its evils, to re- 


‘ 
i. 


_ to be as new-born babes, that are born into a new 


_ watching, in holy fear, aspiring after another life ; 
to take up our dag cross ; to deny ourselves 5 C 


; 
a 


JY ject its joys, and have no value for its happiness: ~ 


t 


state of things; tohive as pilgrims, in spiritual — 


ae oe 


\ thilesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life ; ee 
% 


TO A HOLY LIFE. es | 


pr¢s the blessedness of mourning; to seek the 
bl€dness of poverty of spirit; to forsake ‘the, 
pr} and vanity of riches ; to take no thought for 
thdorrow ; to live in the profoundest state of hu- | 
miy ; to rejoice in sufferings ; to reject thelustof 


toear injuries ; to forgive and bless our enemies, : 
4a to love mankind as God loveth them; to give = 
uj/our whole hearts and affections to God; and 
strive to enter through the strait gate into a life of 

eternal glory. 

8. Thus it is in all virtues and holy tempers; — 
they are not ours, unless they be the virtues and 
tempers of our ordinary life. So that Christianity 
is so far from leaving us to live in the common ways 
of life, conforming to the folly of customs, and grati- 
fying the passions and tempers which the spirit of 
the world delights in: itis so far from indulging us 
in any of these things, that all its virtues, which it 
makes necessary to salvation, are only so many 
ways of living, contrary to the world in all the come 
mon actions of our life. ; : 

If our common life is not a common course of hu- 
mility, self-denial, renunciation of the world, p 
of spirit, and heavenly affection, we donot li 
life of Christians. A? go ae 

9. But yet, though it is thus plain, that this, and 
this alone, is Christianity, an uniform, open and vis- 
ible practice ofall these virtues; yct it is as plain, 
that there is little or-nothing ‘of this to be fomnd, — 
even amongst the Fea of people. You see 
them often at church ; but look into their lives, and’ 
you see them just the same sort of people as others 
are. The difference that you find betwixt them is 
only the difference of their natural tempers. They 
have the same taste of the world, the same worldly 
cares, fears and joys; they have the same turn of 
mind, are equally vain in Cg desires. You see 


i Ros. Ps 


.. 


: — ee 


x > rw. 2. 
x ; 
rf SR ere ase each 
ee } 2 & : 
; # ot me 


; A SERIOUS CALL 


the same vanity of dress, the same self-love dine 
_ dulgence, the same foolish friendships and gund-- 
less ‘hatreds, the pe levity of mind and ifling ‘ 
spirits, the same idle dispositions, and vain wrs of © \ 
spending their time in visiting and conversati¢ as yy 
» inthe rest of the world, that make no preteng to // 
_» devotion. 


+10. Ido not mean this comparison betwixt faye 


ple seemingly good and professed rakes, but betwz’xt 
people of sober lives. Let us take an instanc¢ in 
two modest women: let it be supposed that one of 
them is careful of times of devotion, through a sense 
of duty: and that the other is at church seldom or 
often, just as it happens. ‘Now it is a very easy 
_ thing to see this difference betwixt these persons. 
But, can you find any farther difference betwixt 
~ them? Can you find that their common life is of a 
different kind? Are not the tempers, and customs, and 
manners of the one, of the same kind as of the other? 
Do they live as if they belonged to different worlds, 
had different views in their heads, and different 
rules and measures of all their actions? Have they 
not the.same goods and evils ? Are they not pleased 
and displeased in the same manner, and for the same 
.. things? Do they not live in the same course of life ? 
~ Does one seem torbe of -this world, looking at the 
_ things that are temporal, and the other to be of 
.» another world, looking wholly at the things that are 
"eternal? Does the one live im pleasure, delightin 
herself in shew or dress, and the other live in self- 
denial, renouage ey hing that looks like vani- 
ty, either of person, dress, or carriage? Does the 
one trifle away her time? And does the other study 
. all the arts of improving it, living in prayer aa 
watching, and such good works as may make all her 
time turn to her sieada ce, and-be placed to her 
'. account at the last day ? Is the one careless of ex- 
~ pence, and glad to adorn herself with every cost- 


i» 4] 


se Serie . 
“fO A HOLY LIFE. a 


ly ornament of dress? And does the other consider 
her fortune asa talent given her by God, which 
is to be improved religiously, and. no more to be 

nt in vain and needless ornaments than itis to be — 
puried in the earth ? aol 
~ Where must you look, to find one person of religi- 
on differing in this manner from another that has 
none? And yet if they do not differ in these things, 
ean it with any sense be said, the one is a good. 

- ehristian and the other not? 

11. Take another instance among the men. Leo 
has agreat deal of good nature, has kept what 
they call good company, hates every thing that is 
false and base, is very generous to his friends ; but 
has concerned himself so little with religion, that 
he hardly knows the difference between a Jew and © 
a Christian. iy a 

Eusebius, on the other hand, has had early im- 
pressions of religion and buys books of devotion. 
He can talk ofall the Feasts and Fasts of the church, 
and knows the names of most men that have been 
eminent for piety. You never hear him swear, and 
when he talks of religion, he talks of itas a matter 
of great concern. 

- Here you see, that one person has religion 
enough, to be reckoned a pious Christian ; and the 
other is so far from all appearance of religion, that 
he may fairly be reckoned.a Heathen. And yet, if — 
you look into their common life, if you’ examine 
their ruling tempers in the greatest articles of life, 
you will find the least difference imaginable. _Con- 
sider them with regard to t e use of the world be- 
cause that is what every body can see. Now, to have 
right notions and tempers with regard to the world, is 
as essential to religion, as to have right notions of- 
God. And it is as possible for a man to worship a 
crocodile, and yet be a pious man, as to have his af- 
fections set upon this world, and yet be a good 
Christian. 


a 


ns ata, all sil as ci. elie. wl 


> PN ap li Be 
iy ar 


a: 
10 A SERIOUS CALL ~ . = 


_ But now, if you consider Leo and Eusebius - ‘ 
this respect, you will find them exactly alike ; seek- - 
ing, using, and enjoying all that can be got in this 
world, in the same manner. You will find riches, 
prosperity, pleasures, and honour, are just as much 
the happiness of Eusebius as they are of Leo. And 
yet, if Christianity has not changed a man’s tem- 
per, with relation to these things, what has it done 
for him ? of vu 
12, Every one capable of geflection, must have: 
observed, that this is generally the state, even of 
devout people, whether men or women. You may 
see them different from other people, as to tunes 
and places of prayer, but like the rest of the world 
in all the other parts of their lives ; that is, adding 
Christian devotion to an Heathen life. 1 have the 
authority of our blessed Saviour for this remark, 
where he says, “Take no thought, saying, what 
shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewith- 
al shall we be clothed? For after all these things 
do the Gentiles seek.” But if to be thus affected: 
even with the necessary things of this life, shews 
that we are not of a Christian spirit, but an Heath- 
en; surely, to enjoy the vanity and folly of the 
world as they did, to be like them in the main tem- 
pers of our lives, in sensual pleasures and diver- 
sions, in the vanity of dress, the love of shew and 


greatness, or any other gaudy distinctions of for- 


tune, is a much greater sign of an heathen temper ; 
and consequently, they who add devotion to such a 
life, must be said to pray as Christians but live: 


Heathens: 2) 


* 


a & 


- 70 A HOLY LIFE. 11 


CHAPTER Il. | 


An enquiry into the Reason why the generality of 
Christians fall so short of the Holiness and De- 
votion of Christianity. , 


1. [yr may now be reasonably enquired, how it is, 
that the lives, even of the better sort of people, 
are thus strangely contrary to the pringples of 
Christianity ? ; . ar 
But before gave a direct answer, I desire it 
may be enquired, how it is, that swearing is so 
common amongst Christians? It is indeed yet not 
so common amongst women, as amongst men ; but 
among men this sin is so common, that perhaps 
there are more than two in three that are guilty of 
it through the whole course of their lives; swearing 
more or less, just as it happens ; some constantly, 
others only now and then. Now I ask how comes 
it, that two in three of the men are guilty of so 
‘gross a sin as this is? There is neither ignorance 
nor human infirmity to plead for it: itisagainstan 
express commandment, and the most plain eirine is 
of our blessed Saviour. a 
Do but find the reason why the generality ofmen — 
live in this notorious vice, and you will have found 
the reason, why the generality even of the better 
sort of people, live so contrary to Christianity. 
2. Now the reason of common swearing is this; 
it is because mén have not so much as the intention 
‘to please God in all their actions. For, let a man 
but have so much piety as to intend to please God 
in all the actions of his life, as the happiest and best 
thing in the world, and then he will never swear 
more. It will be as impossible for him to swear, 
whilst he feels this intention within himself, as it is 
impossible for a man that intends to please his. 
prince, to go up and abuse him to his face. 


Ce RE ee cg 
x A SERIOUS CALL 


_ 3. It is but a small part of piety to have such an | 
_ tntention as this; and he has no reason to look 
- upon himself as a disciple of Christ who is not thus . 
far advanced. And yet it is purely for want of this 
sree of piety, that you see such a mixture of sin 
and folly in the lives even of the better sort of 
people. It is for want of this intention, that you 
see men that profess religion, yet live in swearing 
and sensuality;* that you see clergymen given to 

pride and covetousness, and worldly enjoyments. 
It is for want of this intention, that you see women 
that profess devotion, yet living in all the vanity 
and folly of dress, and wasting their time in idle- 
ness and pleasures, in all such instances as their 
estates will reach. For, let but a woman feel her 
heart full of this intention, and she will find it as 
impossible to patch or paint, as to curse or swear ; 
she will no more desire to shine at balls and as- 
semblies, or make a figure amongst those that are 
most finely dressed, than she will desire to dance 
upon a rope to please spectators: she will know, 
that the one is as far from the wisdom and excel- 
lency of the christian spirit asthe other, = 
4. It was this general intention that made the 
primitive Christians such eminent instances of pie- 
ty. And if you will here stop, and ask yourself, 
‘why you are notas pious as the primitive Christians 
were, your own heart will tell you, it is neither 
‘through ignorance nor inability, but purely because 


ee 


‘you never thoroughly intended it. You observe 
the same Sunday-worship that they did; and you 
are strict in it, because it is your full intention to be 
so. And when you as fully intend to be like them 
‘in their common life ; when you intend to please 
God in all your actions, you will find it as possible - 
as to be strictly exact in the service of the church. 
And when you have ihis intention to please God in’ 
all your actions, as the happiest and best thing im the- 


i» 
TO A HOLY LIFE. 15 


‘world, you will find in you as great an aversion to 
any thing that is vain and impertinent in common 
life, whether of business or pleasure, as you now 
have to any thing that is profane. You will be 
as fearful of living in any foolish way, either of 
spending your time, or your fortune, as you are now 


fearful of neglecting the public worship. 


5. Now, who that wants this general intention, 
can be reckoned a Christian? And yet if it was’ 
among Christians, it would change the whole face 
of the world ; exemplary holiness would be as com- 
Pa and visible, as buying and selling, or any trade 
in life. 

Let a Clergyman be thus pious, and he will 
converse as if he had been brought up by an Apos- 
tle. He will no more think and talk of noble pre- 
ferment, than of noble eating, or a glorious chariot. 
He will no more complain of the frowns of the 
world, or a small cure, or the want of a patron, 
than he will complain of a laced coat, or a running- 
horse. Let him but intend to please God in all his 
actions, as the happiest and best thing in the world, 
and then he will know that there is nothing noble in 
a Clergyman, but burning zeal for the salvation of 
souls; nor any thing poor in his profession but 
idleness and a worldly spirit. Again, let a trades- 
man but have this intention, and it will make him 
a saint in his shop; his every day business will be 
a course of wise and reasonable actions, made holy 
to God, by being done in obedience to his will and 
pleasure. He will buy and sell, and labour and — 
travel, because by so doing he can do some good 
to himself and others; but then, as nothing can 
please God but what is wise, and reasonable, and. 
holy ; so he will neither buy nor sell, nor labour in 
any manner, but such as is wise, and reasonable, 
and holy. He will therefore consider, not what 
arts, or methods, will make him richer and greater 

B 


RIED 


14 A SERIOUS CALL * *~ 


than his brethren, or remove him from a shop to 
‘life of state and and pleasure ; but he will consider 
what arts, what methods, can make worldly busi- 
ness most acceptable to God, and make a life ef © 
trade a life of holiness, devotion, and piety. This 
will be the temper and spirit of every tradesman; 


he cannot stop short of these degrees of piety, 


whenever it is his intention to please God in all his 
actions, as the best and happiest thing in the world. 

6. Again, let the Gentleman of fortune but have ~ 
this intention, and it will carry him from every ap- _ 
pearance of evil, to every instance of piety and 
goodness. ey 

He cannot live by chance, or as humour or fancy 
carries him, because he knows that nothing can 
oe God but a wise and regular course of life. 


our expences, and the careless cons’ mpti 
time ; but he asks whether God is p d with. 


whether God has required these things at our 
hands; whether we shall be called to account at 
the last day for the neglect. of them? Because itis _ 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 15 


fot his intent to live in such ways as God may per- 
haps pardon, but in such as we know God will in- 
_ fallibly reward. ; iri: 

He will not therefore look at the lives of Chris- 
tians, to learn how he ought to spend his estate, 
but he will look into the Scripture, and make every 
doctrine, parable, or instruction that relates to rich. 
men, alaw to himselfinthe use of it. 

He will have but one rule for charity, and that 
will be, to spend all that he can that way ; because 
the Judge of quick and dead hath said, that all that 
is so given, is given to him. 

7. Let not any one look upon this as an imagin- 
ary description, that looks fine in the notion, but 
cannot be put in practice. For it is so far from. 
being impracticable, that it has been practised by — 
great numbers of Christians in former ages, who 
were glad to turn their whole estates into a con- 
stant course of charity. And it is so far from be- 
ing impossible now, that if we can find any Chris- 
tians that sincerely intend to please God in all their 
actions, as the best and happrest thing in the world, 
whether they be young or old, single or married, — 


‘men or women, it will be impossible for them to do _ 


otherwise. This one principle will infallibly carry 
‘them to this, and they will find themselves wnable 
to stop short of it. 

For how is it possible for a man that intends to 
please God in the use of his money, because he 
judges it to be his greatest happiness, to bury his 
money in needless impertinent finery, in. covering 
himself or his horses with gold, whilst there are 
any works of foie! or charity to be done with it, or 
any ways of spending it‘well ? 

8. I have chosen to explain this matter, by ap- 
pealing to this intention, because it makes the case 
so plain, and because every one may see it in the 
clearest light, and’ feel it in the strongest manner, 


eet 


et 


eo Se 
eh, 


“i 


_ the use of his estate... 


tert > | Og ge ae bs J 
- ix : i 


bey 


16 A SERIOUS CALL 


. Ne, *® 
only by looking into his own heart. For iti as 
ntends 


‘easy for every person to knoygrwnes bende 
to please God in all his actions, as for any servant 


at 


to know, whether this be his intention towards his » 


‘master. Every one can as easily tell how he lays 
out his money, and whether he considers how to 
»please God in it, as he can tell where his estate is, 
and whether it be in money or in land. So that here 


matter: every body is in the light, and every bc 
has power. And no one can fail, but he that is f 


+ 


so much a Christian, as to intend to please God in 


“a 


9. You see two persons, one is regular in public 
and private prayer, the other is not. Now the 
reason of this difference is not this, that one has 
strength to observe prayer, and the other has not; 
but the reason is this, that one intends to please 
God in the duties of devotion, and the other has no 
intention about it. The case is the same in the 
right or wrong use of our time and money. You 
see one person — away his time in sleep and 
idleness, in visiting and diversions, and his money 


see another carefu] of every day, dividing his hours 
by rules of reason and religion, and spending all 
his money in works of charity. Now the differ- 
ence is not owing to this, that one has strength to 
do thus, and the other has not; but to'this; that one 
intends to please God ia the right use of all his time 


and-all his money, and the other has no intention © 


about it. 

10. Here therefore let us judge ourselves sin- 
cerely ; let us not vainly content ourselves with 
the commen disorders of our lives, the vanity of 
our expences, the folly of our diversions, the idle- 
ness of our lives, and the wasting of our time, fan- 
cying that these are such imperfections as we fall 


ills. 


ot 


in the most vain and unreasonable expences. You — 


vis no plea left for ignorance or frailty, as to this’ - 
body 


a> 


a vag 


" TO A HOLY LIFE. 17 
into through the unavoidable. weakness of our na- 
tures ; but let us be assured that these disorders of 
our common life are owing to this, that we have 
not so much christianity as to intend to please God 
in all our actions, as the best and happiest thing in 
the world. So that we must not look upon our- 
selves in a state of common imperfection, but in 
such a state as wants the first and most fundamen- 

_ tal principle of christianity, viz. an intention to 

_ please God in all our actions. . 

~ 1. And if any one was to ask himself how i 

comes to pass, that there are any degrees of sobri- 

ety which he neglects, any method of charity, which | 
he does not follow, any rules of redeeming time 
which he does not observe, his own heart will tell 
him, that it is because he never inténded to be so_ 
exact in those duties. For whenever we fully in- 
tend it, it is as possible to conform to all this regu- 
larity of life, as it is possible for a man to observe 
times of prayer. 

So that the fault does not lie here, that we desiré 
to be good and perfect, but through the weakness 
of our nature fall short of it; but we have not piety 
enough to intend to be as good as we can, or to 
please God in all our actions. This we see is 
plainly the case of him that spends his time in 
sports, when he should be at church; it is. not his 
want of power, but his want of intention, or desire 
to be there. ee. 

12, And the case is plainly the same in every 
other folly of human life. She that spends her 
time and money in the unreasonable ways and 
fashions of the world, does not do so, because she 
wants power to be wise and religious in the man- | 
agement of her time and money, but because she 
has no intention or desire of being so. When she 
feels this intention, she will ffhd it as possible to 

B 2 


lite. 


" 


18 \ ). & SERIOUS CALL 


act up to it, as to ‘be strictly sober and chas 
cduse it is her care and desire tobeso. 
13, This doctrine does not suppo 
no need of divine grace, or that it is in our own 
power to make edibin  ay It only suppos-~ 
_es, that through the want of a sincere intention of 


een God in all our actions, we fall into such 


regularities of life, as by the ordinary means of 
_ grace we should have pers: to avoid. And that 
we have not that perfection, which our pres 
state of grace makes us capable of, because | 
ot so much as an to have it. 
__ It only teaches us, that the reason why you a? 
no real self-denial, no eminent charity, no profound 
humility, no heavenly affection, no true contempt of 
the world, no Christian meekness, no sincere zeal, 
no eminent 'piety in the common lives of Chris- 
tians, is this, because they do not so much as intend 
to be exact and exemplary in these virtues. 


oe 


CHAPTER Ill. 


- Of the great danger and Folly of not ote to be 4 


as eminent as we can, in the Practice of all Chris- 
ian virtue. 
i. Auruoven the goodness of God and his rich 
mercy in Christ Jesus are a sufficient assurance to 
us, that he will be merciful to our unavoidable weak- 
nesses, that is, to such failings as are'the effect of » 
ignorance or surprise ; yet we have no reason to 
expect the same mercy towards those sins which we 
live in, through a want of intention to avoid them. 
For instance, a common swearer, who dies in that 
guilt, seems to havemo title to the Divine mercy ; 
because he can ne more plead any weakness in his 


eee , % 
ft 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 19. 


excuse, than the man that hid his talent in the 
earth, could plead his want of strength to keep it 
out of the earth, ~ q 

2. Butif this be right reasoning in the case of a 
common swearer, that his sin is not to be reckoned 
a pardonable frailty, because he has no weakness 
to plead in its excuse; why do not we as much 
condemn every other error of life, that has no more 

weakness to plead in its excuse than common 
"Swearing 2 
For if this be so bad, because it might be ayoid- 
ed, ifwe did but sincerely intend it, must not all 
“other erroneous ways of vice uilty, if we live in 
them, not through weakness a a inability, but be- 
cause we never sincerely intended to avoid them ? 
For instance, you perhaps have made no progress 
in the most important christian virtues, in humility 
and charity. Now, if your failure in these is 
owing to your want of intention ef performing them 
in any true degree, have you not as little to plead 
for yourself? And are you not as much without all 
excuse as the common swearer ? 

8. Why, therefore, do not you press these things 
home upon your conscience: Why do you not think 
it as dangerous for you to live in such defects as 
are in your power to amend, as it is dangerous fora 
common swearer to live in the breach of that duty, 
which it is in his power to observe? Is not want of 
a sincere intention, as blameable in one case as in 
another ? ¢ 

You, it may be, are as far from Christian perfec- 
tion as the common swearer is from keeping the 
third commandment. Are you not therefore as 
much condemned by the doctrines of the gospel, as 
the swearer is by the third commandment ? 

_ You perhaps will say, that all people fall short 
of the perfection of the gospel. But this is nothing 
to the purpose: for the question is not, whether 


20 5 A SERIOUS GALL 


gospel perfection can be fully attained; but wheth- 
er you come as near it as a sincere inteplion a) 
careful diligence can carry ther you are 
not ina much lower state than you might be, if you 
sincerely intended to advance yourself i in all chris- 
tian virtues ? 
4. If your defects in piety, humility, and charity, 
“are owing to your want of sincere intention to be 
as eminent as you can in these virtues, then you , 
leave yourself as much without excuse, as he that a 
lives in the sin of swearing, through | the want of a 
_ sincere intention to depart from it. a 
The salvation of our souls is set forth in ‘scrip- 
ture as a thing of dilfiéulty, that requires all our dil- 
igence, that is to be “* worked out with fear and 
trembling.”’ 
¢ Weare told, “ strait is the gate, and narrow is 
the way that jeadeth unto life, and few there be 
that find it.”? That “ many are called, but few are 
chosen.”? And that many will miss of their salva- 
tion, who seem to have taken some pains to obtain 
it. ‘+ Strive to enter in at the strait gate ; for ma- 
ny I say unto you, will seek to enter in and. shall 
not be able.” 

Here our blessed Lord commands us to ainfite to 
enter in, because many will fail, who only seek to» 
enter. . By which we are plainly taught, that re- 
ligion a state of labour and striving, and that 
many will fail of their salvation ; not because-they 
took no} pains or care about it, ‘put because they 
did not take care and pains enough; they only 
sought, but did not strive to enter in. ® 

Every Christian therefore should as well exam- 
ine his life by these doctrines, as by the command- 
ments: for these doctrines are as plain marks ¥ 
our condition as the commant ments are. 

For if salvation is oaly given to those who strive 
for it, then itis as inane for me te consider, 


ee ~ t 


TO_A HOLY LIFE. Ves 


whether my course of life be a course of striving to 
obtain it; as to consider whether I am keeping any 
of the commandments. 

5. If my religion is only a formal compliance - 
with those modes of worship that are in fashion 
where I live, if it costs me no pains or trouble, if it 
lays me under no rules and restraints, if ] have no 
careful thoughts about it, is it not great weakness” 

tothink that I am “ striving to enter in at the strait 
+ Wgate 2” 
If 1am seeking every thing that can delight my 
Senses, and regale my appetites, spending my time 
and fortune in pleasures, in diversions, and worldly 
enjoyments; a stranger to watchings, fastings, 
prayers, and mortifications, how can it be said, 
that I am ‘* working out my salvation with fear and 
trembling ?” as 

{f I use the world and worldly enjoyments, as 
the generality of people do, and in all ages have 
done, why should | think that Iam amongst those 
few, who are walking in the narrow way to heav- 
en ? 

And yet, if the way is narrow, if none can walk 
in it but those that strive, is it not as necessary for 
me to consider, whether the way I am in be narrow 
enough, or the labour I take be a sufficient striving, 
as to consider whether I sufficiently observe the 
second or third commandment ? Ros ee 

6. The measure of our love to God seems in 
justice to be the measure of our love of every vir- 
tue. We are to love and practise it “ with all our 
heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with 
all our strength.”? And when we cease to live with 
this regard to virtue, we live below our nature, and 
instead of being able to plead our infirmities, we 
stand chargeable with wilful negligence. 

It is for this reason that we are exhorted to work 
out our salvation with “ fear and trembling ;”’ be- 


2 
‘By 
w 


. 


$ vu 


x 


(a 


22 | A SERIOUS CALL a 


cause unless our heart and passions are eagerly 
' ‘bent upon the work of cursmeraneee less holy 
fears animate our endeavours, and keep our con- 
sciences tender about every part of ‘our duty, con- 
sstantly examining how we live, and how fit we are 
to die, we shall in all probability sit down in such 
_acourse of life, as will never carry us to the re- 
wards of heaven. 

And he that considers that a just God can only 
make such allowances as are suitable to his justice, 
that our works are all to be examined by fire, will 
find fear and trembling are proper tempers for those 
that are drawing near to so great a trial. 

Now this is not intended to possess people’s 
minds with a scrupulous anxiety; but to fill them 
with a just fear of living in the neglect of such vir- 
tues as they will want at the day of judgment. 

It is only desiring them to be soapprehensive of 
their state, so earnest after higher degrees of piety, 
and so fearful of falling short of happiness, as the 
great 2 tt St. Paul was, when he thus wrote to 
the Philippians. 

« “Notas though IT had already attained, either 

were already perfect ;—but this one thing I do, for- 
getting those things which are behind, and reach- 

ing forth unto those things which are before, I press 
toward the mark for the prize of the high calling 
of God in Christ Jesus.” And then he adds, * Let 
us therefore, as many as are perfect, be thus mind- 
ed?” 7 "ta 


But if the apostle thought it necessary for those — 


who were in his state of perfection to be thus 


minded ; that is, thus labouring, pressing and as- 


piring after some degrees of holiness, to which they 


were not then arrived; surely it is much more ne- © 


essary for us, to be thus minded ; thus earnest and 
Peesiviny after such degrees of a holy life, as we 
haye not yet attained. 


2% 


Pi 
~*~ 


* 
st 


20 A HOLY LIFE. 28 


“7, The best way for any one to know how much 
he ought to aspire after holiness, is to ask himself, 
how much he thi 


ks will make him easy at the hour 
of death ? is / 


Now any man that dares put this question to him- 
self, will be forced to answer, that at death, every 
one will wish, he had been as perfect as human na- 
ture can be. 

Is not this sufficient to put us, not only upon 
wishing but labouring after all that perfection which 
we Shall then lament the want of? Is it not exces- 
sive folly to be content with such a course of piety 
as we already know cannot content us, at a time 
when we shall so want it, as to have nothing else to 
comfort us? How can we carry a severer condem- 
nation against ourselves, than to believe that at the 
hour of death, we shall want the virtues of the 
saints, and wish that we had been amongst the first 
servants of God, and yet take no method of arriv- 
ing at their height of piety, whilst we are alive ? 

8. Though this is an absurdity that we can pass 
over, whilst the health of our bodies, the passions 
of our minds, the noise and hurry, and pleasures, 
and business of the world, lead us on with eyes that 
see not ; yet at death, it will appear before us in a 
dreadful magnitude: it will haunt us like a dismal 
ghost; and our consciences will never let us take 
our eyes from it. > 

We see in worldly matters, what a torment self- 
condemnation is : and how hardly a man is ableto 
forgive himself, when he has brought himself into . 
any calamity or disgrace, purely by his own folly. 
The affliction is mage doubly tormenting, if he is 
forced to charge it all upon himself, as his own act 
and deed, against the reason of things, and contra- 
ry to the advice of his friends. . 

Now by this we may in some degree guess, how, 
terrible that self-condemnation will be, when a man 


rt 
% 


“ = # % “ig? 


¢ 4 ps 
. 7 


QA ' @ SERIOUS CALL” 


shall find himself in the misery of death, unde 
severity of a self-condemning conscience’; charg- 
ing all his distress upon his own folly and madness, 
against the sense and reason of his own mind,’ 
against all the doctrines and precepts of religion, | 

| See centary to all the instructions, calls, and’ 
warnings both of God and man.- 

“49. Penitens was a busy, notable tradesman, and 
very prosperous in his dealings, but died: in the 
thirty-fifth year of his age. 1b 8 

A little before his death, when the doctors had’ 
given him over, some of his neighbours came one 
evening to see him; at which time he spoke thus to 
them : ie: 

1 see, my friends, the tender concern you have 
for me, by the grief that appears in your counte- 
nances; and I know the thoughts that you have 
aboutme. You think how melancholy a case it is, 
tosee so young a man, and ih such flourishing busi- 
ness, delivered up to death. And perhaps, had [ 
visited any of you in my condition, I should have 
‘had the same thoughts of you. ee 

But now, my friends, my thoughts are no more 
like your thoughts, than my condition is like yours. 

It is no trouble to me now to think, that I am to 
die young, or before I have raised an estate. 

These things are now sunk into such mere noth-- 
ings, that I have no name little enough to call them 
by. For if ina few days or hours, Iam to leave 
this carcase to be buried in the earth, and to find 
myself either forever happy in the favour of God, 
or eternally separated from all light and peace, can 
any words, sufficiently express ghe littleness of eve- 
ry thing ase 2 en 

Is there any dream like the dream of life, which 
amuses us with the disregard of these things? Is 

there any folly like the folly of our manly state, 


Pa 


(s a u ‘ 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 95 


which is too wise and busy to be at leisure for these 
reflections 2 o 

10. When we consider death asa misery, ¥ we on- 
ly think of it as a miserabl¢ separation from the en- 
joyment of’ this life. We seldom mourn over an 
old man that dies rich; but we lament the young 
that are taken away in the progress of their for-. 
tune. You yourselves look upon me with pity, not 
that 1am going unprepared to meet the Judge of 
quick and dead, but that I am toleave a sel pags 
trade in the flower of my life. 

This is the wisdom of our manly thougheagikAnd 
yet what folly of the:silliest children is so great as 
this ? ae 

- For what is there miserable in death, a the con= 
sequence of it? When a man is dead, what does 
any thing signify to him, but the state he is then in? 

Our poor friend Lepidus died, you know, as he 
was dressing himself for.a feast. Do you think it 
is now part of his trouble, that -he did not live till 
that entertainment was over? Feasts;and business, 
and pleasures, and enjoyments, seem great things 
to us, whilst we think of nothing else ; but as soon 
as we add death to them, they all sink ‘into an equal 
littleness ; and the sou]; that is separated from the 
body, no more laments the loss of business, than 
thelosing of a feast. 

If I am now going into the joys of God, could 
there be any reason to grieve, that this happened 
to me before I was forty years of age? Could it be 
a sad thing to go to heaven, before I had. made a 
few more bargains, and stood a little longer behind 
a counter? - 

And if I am to go amongst lost spirits, could 
there be any reason to be content, that this did not 
happen to me till 1 was old, and full of riches? If 


good angels were ready to receive my soul, could it” 


Ss 


ree a? ) Raat 


t 


' ina garret ? 


-so near, all tl 


death, confounded at the vanity of all. 


< 


ih & 


26 A. SERIOUS CALL 
be any grief to me, that I was s dying ge bet . 


And if God has deliveredwhe up. to evil spirits, to 
be dragged by them to places of torment, could it 
be any comfort tome, that they found me upon a bed 

{ state? 

“11. When you are as near death as J am, you 
‘wail know, that all the different states of life, wheth- 
er of youth or age, riches or poverty, greatness or 
meanness signify no more to you, than whether 
you die in a poor or stately apartment. Osis 

Theigreatness of those things which follow death, 
sakes all that go before it sink into nothing. - 

Now that everlasting happiness or is come 
njoyments and prosperities of life 
seem as vain and insignificant, and to have no more 
to do with my happiness than the clothes that I wore 
before I could speak. 

- But, my friends, how am I surprised; that I. have 


' not always.had these thoughts? For whatis there in 


the terrors. of death, in the vanities of life, or the” 
necessities of piety, but what I might ha sily | 
and fully. Ph: it part of my lie? "ae i 
What a strange thing is it, that a little health, or 
the poor business of a shop, should keep us so sense- 
less of these great things that are Coming so fast 
upon us! 
~ 12, Just as you came into & chamber, I was 
thinking. with myself, what ao of souls there 
are now in the world.in my condition at this very 


. time, surprised with a summons to the other world ; 


some taken from their s' d farms, others- from 
their sports and pleasures, these at suits at law, 
those ra tables, so the road, others at 
their own fire sides, and a zed at an hour when 
they thought not of it ; Grebe at the approach of 


their labours, 
designs and projects, astonished at the felly of = 


n% ie | 


—- i ag “A ‘ . ' 

g z fos HOLY Lire. aq - 
ee oe 
"past lives, and not knowing which way to turn their 


thoughts, to find any comfort; their consciences 
flying in their faces, bringing all their sins to re- 
membrance, presenting them with the sight of the 
angry Judge, the worm that never dies, the fire 
ihat is never quenched, the gates of hell, the pow- 
ers of darkness, and the bitter pains of eternal 


" «death. ~ ’ 


~ Omy friends! bless God that you are not of this 
number, that you have time and strength so to-em- 
ploy yourselves, as may bring you peace at the 


tast. . 


13. You perhaps, when you consider that I have 

lived free from scandal, and debauchery, and in the 
communion of the church, wonder to see me so full 

of remorse and self-condemnation at the approach 
of death. , 

It is true, I have lived in the communien of the 
church, and frequented its service on Sundays when 
I was not too idle, or otherwise disposed of by my 
business and pleasures:: but then, my conformity to 


-the public worship has-been rather a thing ofcourse, 


than from any real intention of glorifying God; had 
‘it not been so, I had been more devout-when there, ” 
and more fearful of ever neglecting it. Bree 
14. But the thing that now surprises me above ail 
wonders, is this, that I never had so muchas a gen- 


‘eral intention of living up to the’ piety of the gos- 


pel. ‘This never so much as entered into my heart. . 
Inever once in my life considered whether my way — 
of life was such as weuld precure me the mercy of 
God at this hour. 8°. . 

How easy a thing would salvation be, ifit could 
fall into my careless; hands, who have never had: so 
much serious thought about it, as about any ‘one 
common bargain that | have made? = 

Do you think any thing can astonish and confound 
a dying man like this? What pain do you think a 
” P ~ 


* 
bd 
P 


eae 


- 


* stopped by ac 


e — + — Pha a 
St i 


28 A SERIOUS CALE 


UM 


man must feel, when his conscience lays all this folly ie 


to his charge, when it shews him how regular, ex- 


act, and wise he has been in small matters, that are 
passed away like a dream, and how stupid and 
senseless he has lived without any reflection, in 
‘things of such eternal moment, as no heart can suf- 
ficiently conceive them ? gh eae 

+O my friends! a careless life, unconcerned and | 
inattentive to the diities of religion, is so without all 
exeuse, so unworthy of the mercy of God, sucha 
shame to the sense and reason of our minds, that I 


flectuponit. | _ 

_ Penitens was here going on, but 1is mouth 

Sivitsion, which never suffered him 

to speak any more. He lay convulsed for about 
twelve hours, and then gave up the ghost. 


cy e+ 


te ty * 


hse 1 Ae 
eee WS. 


CHAPTER IV. | 


ry 


ease God in no State or Employment, but by 
intending and devoting it all to his Glory. » 


‘ rs 

1. Havine aleadmeniild the 
devotion, and shewn that i 
prayer, but a certain form of 
God, not atany particu i 
ry where and in every 
to. some particulars, an 
our labour and employmen 
to Goody. 4, 

As a Christian should conside 
holy, because God is there ; so he shoul 
every part of his life as a matter of hol 
it is to be offered to God. 


neral nature of 


‘CE Riba teed 


: TO A HOLY LIFE. 29 


The profession of a clergyman is an holy pro- 
fession, because it is a ministration in holy things. 
But worldly business is to be made holy, by being 
done as a service to God, and in conformity to 
his will. 

Foras all men, and all things i in the world, as 
truly belong unto God, as any places, things, or per- 
sons, that are devoted to divine service; so ail 
things are to be used, and all persons are to act in 
their several states for the glory of God. 

Men of business therefore must not look upon » 
themselves as at liberty to live to themselves, to 


sacrifice eir own humors and jomper, because 
ibeir em ent is of a worldly nature : but they 
must consider, that as the woridg and all worldly — 


professions, as ; truly belong to God as persons and 
things that are devoted to the altar: so itis asmuch 
the duty of men in worldly business to live whol 
unto God, as itis the duty of those who are devote 
to divine service. vate One 
whole world is Go 


101) 


and faculties from God: ; so all men ar 
act for God with all their powers and faculties. — 
As all things are God’s ; So all thi ngs are to be 
used and regarded. as the things of God, ‘For men: 
‘S d live to themselves is 
the same ge “aga God, as for angels to 
abuse pine: - because God is just the ot 


difer in their use ; but 


“a hings may, and 
according to t G wile 


ps they are all to 
— may and must differ in their ditenn::, $ 
but yet they must al] act for the same Napa as duti 
+, tee Tee. : e2 2 cee > 


a 


ee . ee 
, 
30 A SERIOUS CALL 


ful servants of God, in the right and pious perform- 
_ance of their several callings. 
3. Clergymen must live wholly unto God in one 
4 ne way ; that is, in the exercise of holy of- 
ces, in the ministration of prayers and sacraments, 
and. a zealous distribution of spiritual goods. » 


is But men of other employments are, in their par- 
3 ticular ways, as much obliged to act as the servants 
_. of God, and liye wholly unto’ ee in their several 
P callings. 28 


This is the only difference “between clergymen 
Wei people of other callings. — 

When it can be shewn, that men m be “vain, 
covetous, sensual, worldly-minded, ae in the 
exercise ° their worldly business, th will be 

ble clergymen to indulge the same oa 
ie eir sacred professions. For though 
mika tempers are most odious and most a eile c 
- gymen, who b esides their baptismal ave a 
second time devoted themselves to God, to be his 
servants, not in the common offices of life, but in the. 
service of the most holy things; and who ere- 
fore to keep themselves as separate from the com- 
mon life of other men, as a church or an altar is to 
be kept separate from houses and tables of common 
use: yet as all Christians are by their baptism 
devoted to God and.made professors of holiness ; 
so are they all in their several callings to live as 
holy and heavenly persons ; doing every thing in 
their common life only in such a manner, as it may 
be received by God, as a service done to him.— 
For things spiritual and temporal, sacred and com- 
mon, must, like men and angels, like heayen and 
earth, all conspire in the glowy of God. 

A. ‘As there is but one God and Father of us all, 
| whose glory gives light and life to every thing. that 
lives, whose presence fills all places, whose power 
supports all beings, whose PreRiensh ruleth all 


* < a7 


” - baa 3 f & 
- 
‘TO A HOLY LIFE. ro 


events; so every thing that lives, whether in hea- 
ven or earth, whether they be thrones or principal- 
ities, men or angels, must, all, with one spirit, live 
wholly to the praise and glory of this one God and 
Father of them all. Angels as angels, in their hea- 
. venly ministrations, but men as men, women as wo- 
men, bishops as bishops, priests as priests, and dea- 
cons as deacons; some with things spiritual, and 
“some with things temporal, offering to God the daily 
sacrifice of a reasonable life, wise actions, purity of 
heart, and heavenly afféctions. 

This is the common business of all persons in this 
world. It is not left to any women in the world to 
trifle away their time in the follies and impertinen- 
cies of a fashionable life, nor to any men to resign 
themselves up to worldly cares and concerns; it is 
not left to the rich, to gratify their passions in the _ 

“indulgences and pride of life, nor to the poor, tovex 
and torment their hearts with the poverty of their 
state; but men and women, rich and poor, must, 
with bishops and priests, walk before God in the 
same, wise and holy spirit, in the same denial of 
all vain tempers, and in the same discipline and 
care of their souls ; not only because they have all 
the same rational nature, and are servants of the 
same God, but because they all want the same 
holiness to make. them fit for the same happiness. 
It is therefore absolutely necessary for all Chris- 
tians, whether men or women, to consider them- 
selyes as persons that are devoted to holiness, and 
to order their common ways of life by such rules 

of reason and piety, as may turn it into a continual 
service to Almighty God. 

5. As the glory of God is one and the same 
thing ; so whatever we do, suitabie to it, must be 
done with one and thesame spirit. That same 
temper of mind which makes our alms and deyo- ~ 


me 


3 
4 
4 

3 


ge 


ie 


; 


*4 


33° A SBRIouS caLL 


: vig 
tions acceptable, must also make our laRouis or em- 
. ployment, a proper offering toGod. If a man pur- 
‘sues his business, that he may raise himself to figure 
and glory in the world, he is no longer serving God 
in his employment; he is acting under other mas: 
ers, and has‘no more title to a reward from God, 
than he that gives alms that he may be seen 
of men. For vain and earthly desires are no more 
: allowable in our employments, than in our alms and 
devotions. For these tempers of worldly pride, 
and vain glory, are.not only evi hv eesdlion mix 
with our good works; but they have the same evil 
“nature, when they enter into our common business. 
If it were allowable to indulge covetous or vain pas- 
sions in our worldly employments, it would be al- 
lowable to be vain glorious in our serationeeliil 
as our alms and devotions. are ‘not an acceptab! 
service, but when they proceed from a heart. truly. 


devoted to. God; so our common employment can- 


“not be ‘reckoned a service to him, but when it is 
performed with the same piety of heart. 
6. Most of the employments of life are in their 
own nature lawful; and all those that are so, may be 
made a-substantial part of our duty to God, if we 
snare? in them only so far, and for such ends, as are 
suitable to beings, that are to live above the world, 
allthe time they live in the world. This is the only 
measure of our application to any worldly business; 
let it be what it will, or where it will, it must have 
no more of our hands, our hearts, or our time, than is 
consistent with an hearty, daily, careful preparation 
of ourselves for‘another life. For as all Christians, 
as such have renounced this world, to. prepare 
themselves by daily devotion, and universal holi- 
wness, for an eternal state of quite another. nature, 
_ they must look upon worldly employments as upon 
worldly wants, and bodily infirmities 5 things not to 
be desired, but only to be endured, till death, and 


a Ti es bh gtd Re ee ’ . ? —_° 


e » 


- ; re 
TO A dou ré. 33 
7 y ews - : Dal . 
the resurrection have carried us to an eternal state 
of real happiness. a 


7. Now he that does not look at the things o} 
this life in this degree of littleness, cannot be said 
either to feel or believe the greatest truths of chris- F 
tianity. For, if he thinks any thing great orim- —~ 
portant in human business, can he be said to feel 
or believe those scriptures which represent this _ 
life, and the greatest things of life, as bubbles, va- ~ 
pours, dreams, and shadows? " 

If he thinks figure, and shew, and worldly glory, 
to be any proper happiness of a Christian, how cat 
he be said to feel or believe this doctrine, * Bles- 
sed ae ye when men shall hate you, and when they 
shall separate you from their company, and shall 
reproach you, and cast out your name as evil, for 
the Son of man’s sake ”” For surely, if there was __ 
any real happiness in figure and shew, and worldly ~ 
glory ; if these things deserved our thoughts and ~ 
care, it could not be matter of the highest joy, 
when we are torn from them by persecution and 
sufferings. If therefore a man will so live, as to 
shew, that he believes the most fundamental doc= - 
trines of christianity, he must live above the world; 
he must do the busimess of life, and yet live wholly 
unto God. And it is as necessary that people live 
in their employments with this temper, as it is ne- 
cessary that their employment itself be lawful. 

8. The husbandman that tilleth the ground, is 
employed in an honest business, that is necessary 
in life, and very"capable of being made an accept- 
-able service unto God ; but if he labours and toils, 
not to serve any reasonable ends of life, but in or- 
der to have his plough made of silver, and to have 
his horses harnessed in gold, the honesty of his ~ 
employment is lost as to him, and his labour be- 
comes his folly. ri 


‘ . 


’ -_ = e ¢ as i * 
he 2 SERIOUS L 4 
el a a Oe 
_ Atradesman may justly think, that it is agreeable 


‘to the will of God for him tosell such things — 
_ useful in life; such as help enable the and others 


_. to a reasonable support, and enable them to assist - 
those that want to be assisted: but ifinstead of this, 
“it be his chief end in it to grow rich, that he may 
five in figure and indulgence, and be able to retire 
_ ~~ from business to idleness and luxury, his trade, as 
| “to him, loses all its innocency, and is so far, from 
| being-an acceptable service to God, that it is only 
amore plausible course of covetousness, self-leve, 
| and ambition. - For.such a one turns the necessi- ) 
; ties of his employment into pride’and covetoustiess, 
just as the sot and epicure turn the necessities of 
eating and drinking into gluttony and drunkennesss 
Now he that is up early and late, that sweats and 
labours for those ends, that he may be some time 
or other rich, and live in pleasure and indulgence, 
. lives nomore to the glory of God than he that plays 
4 and games for the same ends, For though there is 


= 


; a great difference between trading and gaming ; 
. yet most of that difference is lost, when men trade 
withthe same desires:and tempers, and for the same 
ends thatothers game. Charity and fine dressing 
are things very different ; but if men give alms for 
the same reasons that others dress fine, only to be 
geen and admired, charity is then. but like the vani- 
ty of fine clothes. In like manner, if the same mo- 
tives make some people industrious in their trades, 
which make others constant at gaming, such pains 
atdike the pains of gaming. BPE Es 

Sallidus has traded'above thirty years in the 
greatest city of the kingdom; he has been so many 
syears constantly increasing his trade and his for- 


* tune... Every. hour of the day is with him an hour 
4 ee nod on h he eats and ‘drin, . ery 
heartily, yet every meal seems to be ina hurry, and” 
he would say grace if he had time. Callidus ends 


@ By 


7” 8 allt 


aeo 


a J s “ Ce 
a ah 
S we a a 


© TO.A HOLY LIFE. j 
every day at the ave ; but has not leisure to b 
there till near nine o’clock. He is always forced 
to drink a good hearty glass, to drive thoughts of 
business out of his head, and make his spirits drow- 
sy enough for sleep. He does businessall the time 
that he is rising, and has settled several matters 
before he can get to his counting-house. His 


prayers are a short ejaculation or iwo, which he ~ 
never misses in stormy weather, because he has © 


always something or other at sea. Callidus will 
tell you with great pleasure, that he has been in 
» this hurry for so many years, and that it must have 
killed him long ago, but that it has been a rule with 
him to get out of the town every Saturday, and 
make the Sunday a day of quiet and good refresh- 
ment in the country. bee. 
He is now so rich that he would leave off his busi- 
ness, and amuse his old age with building and fur- 
nishing a fine house in the country ; but that he is 
afraid he should grow melancholy, if he was to quit 
his business. He will tell you with great gravity, 
that it is a dangerous thing for a man, that has been 
used to get money ever to leave it off. If thoughts 
of religion happen at any time to steal into his head, 
Callidus contents himself with thinking, that-he 
never was a friend to heretics.and infidels ; that he 
has always been civil to the minister of his parish, 


and very often given, something to the charity-— 


schools. 
. 10. Now this a way of life is at such distance from 
all the doctrines and discipline of christianity, that 


no one can live in it through ignorance or frailty. — 


Callidus can no more imagine, that “he is bora — 


again of the Spirit;* that he is in Christ a 
creature ;?*{ that he lives ‘ here as a stranger an 
pilgrim, setting his affections upon thingie by 


*Jobniii.5. +1 Peterii : ‘ *, Ks, 
® * o 


ae : ’ » 


36. 


_ASERIOUS CALL ~~ 
of he : oe 
and laying up treasur in heaven.”*{> He can no 
‘more imagine this, he can think that he has 


been all his life an apostle, working miracles, and 
t hi ; a , 
preaching the gospel. = 
i oie Zach must also be owned, that the generality of 
trading Ee ole, especially in great towns, are too 
_ much like Callidus. You see them all the week 
© » buried in business, unable to think of any thing 
' Wats: : : : 
else; and then spending the Sunday in idleness 
~_ and refreshment, in wandering into the country, in 
such visits and jovial meetings as make it often the 
: worst day of the week. ; 
11. Now they do not live thus, because they can- 
not support themselves with less care and applica- 
tion to business ; but they live thus because they 
want to grow rich in their trades, and to maintain 
_, their families in some such figure and degree of 
- finery, as a reasonable Christian has no occasion 
for. Take away but this temper, and then people 
of all trades will find themselves at leisure to live 
every day like christians, to be careful of every 
duty of the gospel, to live in a visible course of re- 
ligion, and be every day strict observers both of 
private and public prayer. ma 
Now the only way to do this, is for people to 
consider their trade as something that they are. to 
devote to the glory of God, something that they are 
to do only in such a manner, as that they may make 
ita duty to him. Nothing can be right imsbusiness, 
that is not under these rules. The apostle com- 
mands servants, “ to be obedient to their masters 
_, in singleness of heart as unto Christ; not with eye- 
service as men-pleasers; but as the servants of 
Christ, doing the will of Gpd from the heart.§ With 
good will doing service as unto the Lord, and not 
-“unto"men.”’|/ Epes 


x 
# 


; “he 
‘. fee 1. § Eph. vi. 5. Col. iii, 22,28. 


ty 


Tea Sa 


«e ‘— 


— 
. 


4 


pa > ¢ ° Be od | | gr ss Midd Ma ’ A 


Sparing in nothing but charity. Tak 


ss Bag “ a oe di 
To A HOLY LIFE. ' | 87 


~ This passage sufficiently shews, that all Chris- ~ 


tians are to live wholly unto God in every state and 
condition ; doing the work of their common calling 


. eh id : 
in such a manner, and for such ends, as to make it _ 
a part of their service to God. For if poor slaves _ 


are not to comply with their business as men-pleas- 
ers, if they are to look wholly unto God in all their 


actions, and serve in singleness of heart, as unto, 
the Lord; surely men of other conditions must be 


as much obliged to go through their business with 
the same singleness of heart; not as pleasing the 
vanity of their own minds, not as gratifying their 
own selfish, worldly passions, but as the servants of 
God in all that they have to do. 

12. It is therefore absolutely certain, that no 


Christian is to enter any farther into business, nor 
. for any other ends, than such as he can, in single- 


ness of heart, offer unto God as a reasonable ser- 
vice. Forthe Son of God, having redeemed us for 
this only end, that we should by a life of reason 
and piety, live to the glory of God: this is the only 
rule and measure for every order and state of lifes 


Without this rule, the most lawful employment be- 


comes a sinful state of life. ; 

Take away this from the life of a clergyman, and 
his holy Geutession serves only to expose him to the 
greater damnation. ‘Take away this from trades- 


men, and shops are but so many houses of greedi- . 


ness and filthy lucree Take away this from gen- 
tlemen, and the course of their life becomes a course 


of sensuality, pride, and wantonness. Take away i 


this rule from our tables, and all falls into gluttony 
and drunkenness. Take away this measure from 
our dress and habits, and all is turned into such 
paint and glitter, and ridiculous ornaments, as ar 
a real’shame to the wearer. ‘Take away th 


thé use of our fortunes, and you will find 


a 
ie, 


j 7 OS ees) ee ae a 
. fae * t ° - 4 ia 
: as. ee 


x of, Ps.” oe _ : 
ets xo _ A serous CALL 


Woon our diversions, and you will find no sports too 
" silly, nor any entertainments too vain and corrupt 
__to be the pleasures of Christians. SO Ses 
i _ 13. If therefore we desire to liye unto God, it is 
_ smecessary to bring our whole life under this law, to 
make his glory the sole rule and measure of our act- 
ing in every employment of life. For there is no 
2 » other true devotion, but this of living devoted to 


God in the common business of our lives. 
So that men must not content themselves with the 
lawfulness of their employments ; but must consider 
| whether they use them, as they are to use every 
; thing, as strangers and pilgrims, that aré baptised 
into the resurrection of Jesus Christ, that are to fol- 
3 low him in a wise and heavenly course of life, in . 
| the mortification of all worldly desires, and in puti- 
fying and preparing their souls for the blessed en- 
joyment of God. ' stan 
For to be vain, or proud, or covetous, or ambi- 
tious in the common course of our business, is as 
contrary to those holy tempers, as cheating and 
dishonesty. . my 
If a glutton was to say, in excuse of his gluttony, 
that he only eats such things as it is lawful to eat, 
he would make as good an excuse for himself as 
the greedy. covetous, ambitious tradesman, that 
should say, he only deals in a Jawful business.” lor 
asa Christian is not only required to be honest, 
‘but to be of a Christian spirit, and make bis life 
an exercise of humility, repentance, and heavenly 
affection ; so all tempers contrary to these, are as 
contrary to christianity, as cheating is contrary 
to honesty. — % oe 
14. All this is only to shew us the absolute ne- 
cessity of such uniform piety, as extends to all th 
~ actions of our common life. ”. eer 
,  That.we must eat, and drink, and:dress, anc 
ie course aécording to the sobriety of the Chris’ 
i ‘ a 


\ eee eee 
« 


Gesu cla Re 7 a | PS 
1“. et ae a 
re 

TOA MOLY LIFE. (SDN. 

spirit; engage in no employments but such as we 
can truly devote unto God; nor pursue them any 
farther, than conduces to the reasonable ends of a 
holy life. . a 

That we must be honest, not only on particular — 
occasions, and in such instances as are applauded 
in the world, easy to be performed, and free from 
danger or loss, but from such a living principle of 
justice, as makes us love truth and integrity in all — 
its instances, and follow it through all dangers, and © 
against all opposition ; as knowing that the more 
we pay for any truth, the better is our bargain, and 
that then our integrity becomes a pearl, when we 
have parted with all to keep it. 

That we must be humble, not only in such in- 
stances as are expected in the world, or suitable to 
our tempers, or confined to particular occasions, 
but in such a spirit, as renders us meek and holy 
in the whole course of our lives, as shews itself in 
our dress, our person, our conversation, our enjoy- 
ment of the world, patience under injuries, submis- 
sion to superiors, and condescension to those that 
are below us, and inal! the outward actions of our 
lives. ere 

That we must not only devote times and places 
to prayer, but be every where in the spirit of devo- 
tion, with hearts always set towards. heaven, look. 
ing up to God in all our actions, and doing every 
thing as servants Jiving in the world, as in an holy 
temple of God; always worshipping him, though _ 
not with our lips,.yet with the thankfulness of our gn 
hearts, the holiness of our actions, and the pious ~ 
and charitable use of his gifts. That we must not 
only send up petitions and thoughts now and then 

to heaven; but must go through all our worldly — 

* business, with an heavenly spirit, as members of — 

_ Christ’s mystical body, that with new hearts and 
new minds, we are to turn an earthly life into a 


% 
. 


he 


My wetl eee 


ie 
i Hrsg 


| preparation for a life of greatness and glory in the 
_ kingdom of heaven. bad 


 . 15. Enough, I hope, has eon said, to shew you 
_ the necessity of thus introducing religion into all the 
: mn our common life, and of Ne and acting 
ee the same regard to God in all ayo do, as 
i in your prayers and alms. 
Eating is one of the lowest actions of our lives 5 
ie ikds common to us with mere animals : yet’ 
that the picty ofall the ages of the world. turned 
_ this ordinary action of the animal-life, i nto a piety 
to God, by making every meat to begin: id end: 
"with devotion. wn SRE eon 
We see yet some remains of this’ custom in 
most Christian families ;some such little formality 
as shews you that people used to call upon God at 
_ the beginning and end of their meals. But indeed. 
itis generally now so performed, as to look more 
_ like a mockery upon devotion, than any! solemn 
application of the mind unto God. In one house 
_ you may perhaps see the head of the family just pull- 
ing off his hat; in another half getting up’ from his 
seat ; another shall, it may be, proceed so far, as 
to make'as if he said some thing :; but however, these 
little attempts are the remains of some devotian 
that was formerly used at such times and are proofs 
that religion has formerly bene to this ones of ay 
common life. & Se eee 
But to such a pass-are we now come, that though 
the custom ‘is still preserved, yet we can hardly - 
bearawith him that seems to perform it with any de- 
gree of seriousness, dnd look upon it asa sign of 
-a fanatical temper, if a man has not done it as soon 
as he begins. Life 
I would not be thought to plead for the neces- 
sity of long prayers at these times; but thus mu 
. ink may be said, that if prayer is proper at 
ese times, we ought to use such words as she 


4 ae, a 


. rs : fie . ‘. 
aa S Yo ra 4 q ae 
3 A 


@ o ; 
TO 4 HOLY LIFE. ~ ae 
pe “ ug 
shew, that we solemnly appeal to God for suc si 


graces and blessings as are proper to the occasion ; 
otherwise the mock-ceremony, instead of blessing 
our victuals, does but accustom us to trifle. with 
devotion, and give us a habit of being. unaffected 
with our prayers. 

16. If every head ‘of a family would, at the re- 
turn of every meal, make a solemn adoration of 
God, in such a decent manneras becomes a devout 
mind, it would be very likely to teach him, that 
swearing, sensuality, gluttony and loose discourse, 


were very improper at those meals, which were to 


begin and end-with devotion. 

And if, in these days of general corruption, this 
-part of devotion is fallen into a mock-ceremony, it 
must be imputed to this, that sensuality and intem- 
perance have got too great power over us, to suffer 
us toadd any devotion to our meals. But thus 
much must be said, that when we are as pious as 
Jews and heathens of all ages have been, we shall 
_think it proper to pray at the beginning and end of 
our meals. : 

I have appealed to this pious custom of all ages, 
as a proof of the reasonableness of the doctrine of 
this and the foregoing chapters ; that is, as a proof 
that religion is to be the rule and measure of all the 
actions of our ordinary life. For surely, if we are 
not to eat, but under such rules of devotion, it must 
appear, that whatever else we do, must in its prop- 

"a ways be done with the same regard to the glory of 
od. 


- 


x 


id 


7h 


w - 
be. 3 “> 

. SERIO ie al 
Me Late: att as 


; bigtt; ‘CHAPTER Vv. 


P ee that ‘ihe: Srom the Nece sally. of I hth. 
and Employments, are to consider ae as de- 
ai to God in a higher degree. 


Ls bees 


. 1. Grasops pave ofithe world are. free from 
-_ cessities of labour, and have het d 
b %. in their own disposal. ~ | as 


a 


- Butas no one is to live in his cap ataccord- 
ing to his own humour, or to please his own fancy, 
. make ita service unto God; “so those who have. 
"no particular employment, are so far from being 
_. own humours, and spend their time ‘and fortune as 
they please, that they are under greater oblige ions. 
‘The treedom of their state lays them under 
greater necessity of always chopsing and doing t 
: They are those, of whom much will be aged 
beca his given unto‘themss © SY 
way 3 ; that is by fog han patience and submission in 
his state of slavery. os th Seapine 
indoles virtue, lie open to'those who are masters 
themselves, their time, and their ee | 
perso 
to make a wise use/of their liberty, to devote th 
_ thing that is holy and pious, and to pled ! 
the highest and most perfect manner, as oe 
= wok: ie ee. 4 
Pe a i. a 
‘ i “ Bs. Zo ye 


but is todo all his business in such a manner as to 
left at liberty to live to themselves, to: pursue their 
‘of living wholly unto God in all their actions. 
ig the 
_ best things. 
n only live unto God inone. particulz 
‘But all ways of holy living, all i instances, and 
It isas much the duty, therefore, ‘oPsuc 
‘selves to all kinds of virtue, to aspire after ev mai 
» © duty of a ae to be resigned unto God i in 
ime tiee's Pe | me.» a ae 


w 


~ | To A HOLY LIFE. 
? * ' 


2, You are no labourer or tradesman, you are 
neither merchant nor soldier; consider yourself — 
‘therefore, as placed in a state, in some degree like — 
that of good angels, who are sent into the world as 
ministering spirits, for the general good of man- 
kind to assist, protect, and minister for them who 
shall be heirs of salvation. 

For the more you are free from the common ne- 
cessities of men, the more you are to imitate the 
higher perfections of angels. __ eal 

_ Had you, Serena, been obliged to wash clothes 
for your maintenance, or to wait upon some mis- 
tress, that demanded all your labour, it would be 
your duty to glorify God, by such humility, obedi- 
ence and faithfulness, as might adorn that state of 
lifesiig es & % | Fi; 

It would then be recommended to your care, to 
improve that one talent to its greatest height.— 
That when the time came for mankind to be reward-" 
ed for their labours by the great Judge of quick and 
dead, you might be received with a well done good 

and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy 
Lord. 
But as God has given you five talents, asshe has 
placed you above the necessities of life, 's he has 
left you in the happy liberty of choosing the most 
exalted ways of virtue ;_as he has left you nothing 
to do, but to make the best use of a variety of bless- 
_ings, to make the best of a short life, to study your 
own perfection, the honour of God, and the good of 
our neighbour ; so it is now your duty to enquire 
how the most eminent saints have lived, to study all 
the arts and methods of perfection, and to set no 
bounds to your love and gratitude to the bountiful 
author of so many blessings. oeie 

3. It is now your duty to turn your five talents 
into five more, and to consider how your time, and 
leisure, and health, and fortune, may be made so 


By 
wit 


— s ~ ’ 

‘ J ‘ 
Ad itscniovs cal ae an 

ret 
many happy means of purifying your own soul, im- 
proving your fellow-creatures, and of carrying you 
at last to the greatest heights of eternal ee 

‘As you have no mistress’ to serve, so a 
own soul be the object of your daily ak and at- 
tendance. 

Nourish it with good works, give it peace in soli- 
tude, get it strength in prayer, make it wise with 
reading, enlighten it by meditation, make: it tender 
with love, sweeten it with humility, enl: en ith 
psalms and hymns, and comfort it with fi 
flections upon future glory. Keep i it in» 
sence of God, and teach it to imitate those ; oe lian 
angels, which, though they attend on the lowest of 
mankind, yet cs always behold ‘the face of our Fa-_ 
the which is in heaven.” — Wie — * \ 

This, Serena, is your profession. -For as sure 
as God is one God, so sure it is, that he has but 
one command to all mankind, whether they be bond . 
or free, rich or poor; and that i is, to act up to the 
_excellency of their nature, to live by reason, to walk 
in the light of religion, to glorify God in all his gifts, ~ 
and dedicate every condition of life to his jod to all 


This is the one common command of Go 
mankind. If you have an employment, you are to 
be thaalietonable, and holy, in the exercise of it 
‘if you have time and a fortune in your own power, 
you are to be thus reasonable, and holy, in the use 
of all. your time, and all your fortune. 

4. The right use of every talent, is the iadispen- 
sible duty of every being » that is capable of know- | 
ing right or wrong. Re 

‘For the reason why we are to do. any thing as »i 
unto God, and with regard to our relation to him,is 
the same reason why we are to do every thing asian 
to God, and with regard to this relation. 

i That which is a reason for our being wi se and. 
holy, in the . charge of all our busines: is the. 


aed RS ie a ik ae ao al 
v bas , ee 
“a” cya 


“910 A HOLY LIFE, » Ag 


‘ t Ra he 
same reason for CaP being wise and holy, in the use 
of all ourmoney. - 3 ; 

’ As we have always the same natures, and are 
every where the servants of the same God, as every 
place is equally full of his presence, and every 
thing is equally his gift, so we must do every thing 
as the servants of God ; we must live in every place 
asin his presence ; we must use every thing, as that 
ought to be used which belongs to God. ~ 

Either this wisdom, and devotion is to go through 
bed way of life, or it is to go through no part of 
ife. : 

If we might forget ourselves, or forget God; if we 
might live by humour or fancy, in any thing, or at 
any time, or in any place, it would be as lawful to 
do the same in’every thing, and every time, and eve- 
ry place. * . ‘ 

5. Iftherefore some people fancy, that they must 
be grave and solemn at church, but may be silly and 
frantic at home: that they must live by some rule 
on the Sunday, but may spend other days by chance ; 
that they must have some times of prayer, but may - 
waste the rest of their time as they please ; that they 
must give some money in charity, but may squan- 
der away the rest as they have a mind; such peo- - 
ple have not considered the nature of religion, nor 
the true reasons of piety. For he that upon princi- 
ples of reason can tell, why it is good to be wise 
and heavenly-minded at church, can tell that it is 
good to have the same tempers in all other places. 
He that knows why he should spend any time well 
knows it is never allowable to throw any time away. 
He that rightly understands the reasonableness of 
charity, will know, that it can never be excusable — 
to waste any of our money in pride and folly, or in’ 
any needless expences. at 

For every argument that shews the wisdom of 
charity, proves the wisdom of spending our fortune | 


$ 


ie P “ . 4 - 
ait ; 4 a m . Pe ° 
46 A SERIOUS CALL par 
well. ‘Every argument that proves the reasonable- 
ness of having times of prayer, shews the reasona- 
__ bleness of losing none of our time. _ st 
ger any one can shew, that we need not always 
' act as in the divine presence, that we need not use 
every thing as the gift of God, that we need not al- 
» ways live by reason, and make religion the rule of 
all our actions, the same arguments would shew, that 
we need never act as in the presence of God, nor 
make religion and reason the measure of any of 
our actions. If therefore we are to live to God 
at any time, or in any place, we are to live unto him 
at all times, and in all places, If we are to use any 
thing as the gift of God, we are to use every thing as 
his gift. If we are to do any thing by mies a 
of reason and piety, we are to do every thing in the 
same manner. Because reason, and wisdom, and 
piety, are as much the best things at all times, and 
in all places, as they are the best things, at any time, 
or in any place. e 
_ Ifit is our glory and happiness to have a ration- 
al nature, that is endued with wisdom and reason, 
that is capable of imitating the Divine nature, then 
it must be our glory and happiness to improve our 
reason and wisdom, to act up to the excellenc of 
our rational nature, and to imitate God in all our 
actions. They therefore who confine their Picion 
to times and places, and some little rules of retire- 
ment, who think that it is being too strict to intro- 
duce religion into common life, and make it give 
laws to all their actions and ways of living, they’ 
who think thus, not only mistake, but they mistake 
the whole nature of religion, who can think 
part of their life is more easy, for being free from 
‘its They may well be said to mistake the whole 
nature of wisdom, who do not think it desireable to 
be always wise. He has not learned the nature of 
,piety, who thinks it too much to be pious 1 all his: 


od + SE ee ee 


TO A HOLY LIFE. » AY 


actions. He does not sufficiently understand what) ~~ 
reason is, who does not earnestly desire to live in 
every thing according to it. 

If we had a religion that consisted in absurd su-. 
perstitions, that had no regard to the perfection of 
our nature, people might well be glad to have some . 
part of their life excused from it. But as the reli- 
gion of the gospel is only the refinement of our best 
faculties, as it only requires a life of the highest 
reason, as it only requires us to use this world, as 
inreason it ought to be used, to live in such tem- 
pers as are the glory of intelligent beings, to walk 
in such wisdom as exalts our nature, and to prac- 
tise such piety, as will raise us to God; who can 
think it grievous, to live always in the spirit of such 
a religion, to have every part of his life full of it, but 
he that would think it much more grievous to be as 
the angels of God in heaven ? 

.7. Farther, as God is one and the same being, 
always acting like himself, and suitably to his own 
nature, so it is the dufy of every being that he has 
created, to live according to the nature that he has 
given it, and always to act like itself. ' 

It is therefore an immutable law of God, that all 
rational beings should act reasonably in all their’ 
actions ; not at this time, or in that place, or upon 
this occasion, or in the use of some particular 
thing, but at all times, in al] places, on all occa- 
sions, and in the use of all things. 

When therefore any being that is endued with 
reason, does an unreasonable thing at any time, or 
in any place, or in the use of any thing, it sins against 
the great law of its nature, and against God, the 
author of that nature. af 

They therefore who plead for any foolish fash-. 
ions, customs, and humors, for the misuse of our 
time, or money, plead for rebellion against our na- 

ture, for a rebellion against God, who has giyen us__ 


o> 
a m wi, 


ee 


eo) a ee ee ee 
& J x . * 
” 


5 ae ¥ » 
48. g4 SERIOUS CALL ve 
‘reason for no other end, than to make it. the rule 
and measure of all our waysoflife. 


8. When therefore you are guilty of any. folly 
extravagance, or indulge any vain temper, do 
- “net consider it as a small matter, but consider it 
as it is, acting contrary to your nature, and then 
» »you will see that there is nothing small, that is un- ~ 
» reasonable: because all unreasonable ways are con- 
trary to the nature ofall rational beings... __ 
: The intel ke sl ch food and 
raiment necessary for us, as angels do not want; 
but it idnlibbra allowable foraa to turn these ne- 
cessities into follies and indulge ourselves in the 
luxury of food, or the vanities of dress, than it is al- 
lowable for angels to act below the dignity of their, 
i, 5 ae 5 Ps Ry oe & ‘ = 
proper state. Fora reasonable, life is. as much the. 
duty of all men, as it is the duty of all angels.— 
_ These are not speculative flights, but plain and un- 
_ deniable laws, that are founded in the nature of 
rational beings, who, as such, are obliged to live 
by reason, and glorify God by a continual right use 
of their several talents. So that though 
not angels, yet they may know by what r 
are to act, by considering the state of ang 
blessed Saviour has plainly turned ou 


ities of human life make sucl 


¥ 


‘by what degrees of wisdom and holiness they ought 


the world, but you must look up to the society of 
" fie eddie: and holiness is fit 


eS i a Chil i i i 


a 
To A HOLY LIFE. > 5S 


must look to all the highest precepts of the gospel, 
you must examine yourself by the spirit of Christ, 
you must think how departed souls would live, if 
they were again to act the short part of human life ; 
and what degrees of wisdom and holiness, you will 
wish for, when you are leaving the world. 

10. Andas Christianity consecrates all states and 
employments to God, as it requires us to aspire,af- , 
ter universal obedience, doing and using every 
thing as the servants of God, so are we more espe- 
cially obliged to observe this exactness in the use t 

~ of our estates and fortunes. . 

The reasen is plain, if we only consider, that our 
estate is as much the gift of God, as our eyes or 
our hands, and is no more to be buried, or thrown 
away at pleasure, than we are to pull out our eyes 
or throw away our limbs. -— 

But besides this consideration, there are several 
other important reasons, why we should be exact in 
the use of our estates. 

11. First, Because the manner of using our mo- 
ney, enters so far inte the business of every day, and © 
makes so great a part of our common life, that our 
common life must be much of the same nature, as 
our common way of spending ourestate. Hfreason  , 
and religion govern us in this, then reason and reli- 
gion have got great hold of us ; but if humour, pride, 
and fancy are the measures of our spending our es- 
tate, then humour, pride, and fancy will have the 
direction of the greatest part of our life. : 

12. Secondly, Another reason is, because our mo- 
ney is capable of being used to the most excellent 
purposes, and is so great a means of doing good. 
If we waste it, we do not waste a trifle, that signifies 
little ; but we waste that which might be as eyes to 
the blind, as a husband to the widow, as a father to 
the orphan. Ifa man had eyes, and hands, and 
feet, that he could give to those that wanted them ; 


E 
é 


a 


50 A SERIOUS CATE, 


+. 
ifhe should either lock them up ina chest, or 
please himself-with some needless, or ridiculous use 
of them, instead of giving them to his bréthren that 
were blind and Jame, should we not justly reckon 
him an inhuman wretch? If he should valle choose 
to amuse himself with furnishing his house with 
_ those things, than to entitle himself to an eternal 
reward, by giving them to those that wanted éyes 
and hands, might we not justly reckon him mad ? 
Now money has very much the nature of eyes 
and feet; if we either lock it up-in chests, or waste 
it in needless and ridiculous expenses, whilst the 
poor and the distressed want it for their necessary 
uses; if we consume it in the ridiculous ornaments 
ofapparel, whilst others are starving in nakedness, 
we are not far from the cruelty of him that chooses 
rather to adorn his house with the hands and eyes, 
than to give them to those that want them. If we 
indulge ourselves in such expensive enjoyments, to 
satisfy no real want, rather than to entitle ourselves 
to.an eternal reward, by disposing of our money 
well, we are guilty of his madness, that rather 
chooses to lock up eyes and hands, than to make 
himself for ever blessed, by giving them to those that 
want them. a er, 
13..Thirdly, If we waste our money, we are not 
only guilty of making that useless, which is so pow 
erful a means of doing good, but we’turn this useful 
talent into a powerful means of corrupting our- 
selves ; because so far as it is spent wrong, so far 
it is spent in the support of some wrong temper, in 
gratifying some vain and unreasonable desires. 
'. As wit and fine parts cannot be only lost, but ex- 
pose those that have them to greater follies, if they 
are not strictly devoted to piety ; so money, if it is 
not used strictly according to reason and religion, 
cannot only be trifled away, but it will betray peo~ 


ple into greater follies, and make them*live a more: 


; : - 


—- _- 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 51 


silly and extravagant life, than they would have 
done without it. If, therefore, you do not spend 
your money in doing good to others, you, must spend 
it to the hurt of yourself. You will act like a man 
that should refuse to give a cordial to a sick friend, 
though he could not drink it himself without inflam- 
ing his blood. For this is the case of superflous 
money ; If you give it to those that want it, it isa 
cordial; if you spend it upon yourself, in something 
that you do not want, it only inflames and disorders 
your mind, and makes you worse than you would be 
without it. ’ 

14. Consider again the fore-mentioned compari- 
son; if the man that would not make a right use 
of spare eyes and hands, should, by continually 
trying to use them himself, spoil his own eyes and 
hands, we might accuse him of still greater mad- 
ness. 

Now this is truly the case of riches spent upon 
ourselves in vain and needless expenses: in trying 
to use them where they have no real use, we only 
use them to our hurt, in creating unreasonable de- 
sires, in nourishing ill tempers, in indulging our 
passions, and supporting a vain turn of mind. For 
high eating and drinking, fine clothes, and fine 
houses, state and equipage, gay pleasures and diver- 
sions, do all of them hurt and disorder our hearts : 
they are the food and nourishment of all the folly 
and weakness of our nature, and are certain means 
to make-us vain and worldly in our tempers; they 
are all of them the support of something, that ought 
not to be supported; they are contrary to that so- 
briety of heart, which relisheth divine things; they. 
are like somany weights upon our mind, that make 
us less able, and less inclined to raise up our 
thoughts and affections to the things that are above. 
_ So that money, thus spent, is not merely wasted, 

mut spent to bad purposes; to the corruption of our 


, ” 


, o- 


nat 


52, A SERIOUS CALL 


hearts, and to make us less able to live up to the 
doctrines of the gospel. It is like keeping money 
from the poor, to buy poison for ourselves. 

For so much as is spent in the yanity of dress, is 
so much laid out to fix vanity in our minds. So 
much as is laid out for idleness and indulgence, is 
so much given to render our hearts dull and sen- 
sual. So muchas is spent in state and equipage,.is 
so much spent to dazzle your own eyes, and ren- 
der you the idol of your own imagination. And so 
in every thing, when you go from reasonable wants, 
you only support some unreasonable temper, some 
turn of mind, which every Christian is called upon 
to renounce. ‘3 
_ So that, wheiher we consider our fortune as a 

trust from God, or the great good that it enables us 
to do, or the great harm that it does to ourselves, 
if idly spent; on all these accounts it is absolutely 
necessary to make reason and religion the strict rule 
ef using all our fortune. ; ; 

15. Every exhortation in scripture to satisfy only 
such wants as God would have satisfied ; every ex- 
hortation to be spiritual and heavenly, pressing after 
a glorious change of our nature; every exhortation 
to love our neighbour as ourselves, is a command to 
be strictly religious in the use of our money. This 
use of our worldly goods, is so much the doctrine 
of the New Testament, that you cannot read a chap- 
ter without being taught something of it. I shall 
only produce one passage of scripture, which is suf- 
ficient to justify all that I have said. 

*«When the Son of man shall come in his glory, 
and all his holy angels with him, then he shall sit 
upon the throne of his glory. And before him shall 
be gathered all nations ; and he shall separate them 
ene from another, as a shepherd divideth the sheep 
from the goats; and he shall set the sheep on his 
right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall 


Pp 


WEY y a ae Sele > nie Ba 2, ie 


TO a HOLY LIFE. 33 
the king say unto them on his right hand, Come yes 
blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom prepared 
for you from the foundation ofthe world: for I was 
hungry, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye 
gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me 
in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye 
visited me ; I was in prison, and ye came unto me. 
Then shall he say unto them on the left hand, De- 
part from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, pre- 
pared for the devil and his angels: for I was hun- 
ery, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye 
gave me no drink; I was.a stranger, and ye took 
me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick and 
in prison, and ye visited me not. These shall go 
away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous 
into life eternal.” 

16. I have quoted this passage at length, because 
if one looks at the way of the world, one would 
hardly think that Christians had ever read ‘this 
scripture. Some people look upon this text only as 
a general recommendation of occasional works of 
charity; whereas it shews the necessity, not only 
of occasional charities, but of such an entire chari- 
table life, as is a continual exercise of all such 
works of charity as we are able to perform. 

You own that there is no salvation but in the per- 
formance of these good works. Who is it, there 
fore, that may be said to have performed these good 
works ? Is ithe that has sometime assisted a prison- 
er, or relieved the poor or sick? This would be as 
absurd as to say, that he had performed the duties 
of devotion, who had sometime said his prayers. 
Is it, therefore, he that has several times done these 
works of charity ? This car no more be said, than 
he can be said to be the truly just man, who has 
done acts of justice several times. What is the 
rule therefore, or measure, of performing these good 
works ? 

; E2 


- ie il athe 7 s 


54 A SERIOUS CALL 


,, Now the rule is very plain and easy, and such as 
-Is common to every other virtue, as well as to char- 
ity. Who is the humble, or meek, or just, or faith- 
ful man? Is it he that has several times done acts 
of humility, meekness, justice, or fidelity? No.— 
But it is he that lives in the habitual exercise of 
these virtues. In like manner, he only can be said 
to have performed these works of charity, who lives 
in the habitual exercise of them to the utmost of his 
power. He only has performed the duty of divine 
love, who loves God with all his heart, and mind, 
and strength. And he only has performed the 
_ duty of these good works, who has done them with. 
all his heart, and mind, and strength: For there is 
no other measure of our doing good, than our power 
of doing it. 

17. The apostle St. Peter puts this question to 
our blessed Saviour; ‘Lord, how oft shall my 
brother sin against me, and I forgive him, till seven 
times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, 
until seven times ; but until seventy times seven.” 
Not as if after this number of offences, a man might 
then cease to forgive; but the expression is to shew 
us, that we are not to bound our forgiveness by any, 
number of offences, but are to continue forgiving 
ihe most repeated offences ‘against us. If there- 
fore, a man.ceases to forgive his brother, because he 
has forgiven him often already; if he excuses: him- 
self from forgiving this man, because he has forgiv- 
en several others; such an one breaks this law of 

_ Christ, concerning the forgiving one’s brother. 


Now the rule of forgiving is also the rule of giving, 
You are not to give, or do good to seven, but to sev- 


enty times seven. You are not to cease from giy- 
ing, because you have given often to the same per- 
son,-or to other persons ; but must account yourself 
as much obliged to continue relieving those that 


continue in want, as you was obliged to relieve them’ 


— 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 55 


once or twice. Had it not been in your power, 
you had been excused from relieving any person 
once; but if itis in your power to relieve people 
often, it is as much your duty to do it often, as it is 
the duty of others todo it but seldom, because they 
are but seldom able. 

18. And the reason of all ‘this is plain; there is 
the same necessity of being charitable at one time, 
as at another. It is as much the best use of our 
money, to be always doing good with it, as it is the 
best use of it at any particular time; so that that 
which is areason for a charitable action, is as good 
a reason for a charitable life ; for charity has noth- 
ing to recommend it to-day, but what will be the 
same recommendation of it to-morrow; and you 
cannot neglect it at one time, without being guilty 
of the same sin, as if you neglected it at another 
time. 

As sure, therefore, as these works of charity are 
necessary to salvation, so sure is it that we are to 
do them to the utmost of our power ; not to-day,’or 
to-morrow, but through the whole course of our life. 
If therefore it be our duty at any time to deny our- 
selves any needless expenses that we may have to 
give to those that want, it is as much our duty todo 
so at all times, that we may be able todo more good: 
For if it is at any time a sin to prefer needless ex- 
penses, to works of charity, itissoat all times. If 
it is ever necessary to take care of these works of — 
charity, and to see that we make ourselves in some — 
degree capable of doing them ; it isas necessary to 
take care to make ourselves as capable as we can ~ 
be, of performing them in all the parts of our life. 

19. Either therefore you must say, that you need 
never perform any of these good works: or you 
. must own, that you are to perform them all your life 

in as high a degree as you are able. There is no 

“middle way, any more than there is a middle way 


. 


56 A SERIOUS CALL 


between temperance and intemperance. If you do 

“not strive to fulfil all charitable works, if you neglect 
any of them that are in your power, let it be when 
it will, or where it will, you number yourself amongst 
those that want Christian charity ; because it is as 
much your duty to do good with all that you have, 
as it is your duty to be temperate in all that you eat 
er drink. 

20. Hence appears the necessity of renouncing 
all those foolish and unreasonable expenses, which 
the folly of mankind has made so common and fash- 
ionable in the world. For ifit is necessary to do 
good works as far as you are able, it must beas ne- — 

_ cessary to renounce those needless ways of spend- 
ing money, which render you unable to do works of 
charity. 
You must therefore no more conform to these 
ways of the world, than you must conform to the 
vices of the world. You must no more spend with 
those that idly waste their money as their own hu- 
mour leads them, than you must drink with the 
drunken ; because a course of such expenses is no 
more consistent with a life of charity, than excess 
in drinking is consistent with a life of sobriety : 
When therefore any one tells you of the lawfulness 
of expensive apparel, or the innocency of pleasing 
yourself with costly satisfactions, only imagine that 
the same person was to tell you, that you need not 
do works of charity ; that Christ does not require 
you to do good unto your poor brethren, as unto 
him; and then-you will see the wickedness of such 
advice: For, to tell you, that you may live in such 
expenses as make it impossible for you to live in 
the exercise of good works, is the same thing as 
telling you, that you need not have any care about 
such good works themselves. | 


ig 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 57 


CHAPTER VI. 


How the imprudent use of an estate corrupts all the 
tempers, and fills the heart with poor and ridiculous 
passions ; represented in the character of Flavia. 


1. IT has already been observed, that a religious 
eare is to be used in the manner of spending our 
money or estate ; because the manner of spending 
our estate makes so great a part of our common 


life, and is so much the business of every day, that, — 


according as we are wise, or imprudent in this, 
the whole course of our lives will be wise or full of 
folly. 4 

Persons that receive instructions of piety with 
pleasure, often wonder that they make no further 
progress in that religion which they so much ad- 
mire. . ' 

Now the reason is this: Religion lives only in 
their head, but something else has possession of their 
hearts; and therefore, they continue from year to 
year mere admirers and praisers of piety, without 
ever coming up to its precepts. 

2. If it be asked, why religion does not get pos- 
session of their hearts? It is not because they live 
in gross sins, or debaucheries; but because their 
' hearts are constantly employed, perverted, and kept 
in a wrong state, by the indiscreet use of such things 
as are lawful. 

The use and enjoyment of their estates is lawful, 
and therefore it never comes into their heads to 
imagine any danger from that quarter. They never 


reflect, that there is a vain and imprudent use of . 


their estates : which, though it does not destroy like 
gross sins, yet so disorders the heart, and supports 


ii ’ 


fy 


by 
4 


S 
58 A SERIOUS CALL 


it in such sensuality and dulness, as makes it inea- 
pable of receiving the life and spirit of piety. 

- For our souls be rendered incapable of all 
virtue, merely by the use of innocent and. lawful 
things. "¥ ; 

3. What is more innocent than rest? And yet 


what more dangerous than sloth and idleness ? 


What is more lawful than eating and drinking? And 
yet what more destructive of all virtue, and fruitful 
of all vice, than sensuality ? : . 

Now it is for want of exactness in the use of 
these innocent and lawful things, that religion can- 


not get possession of our hearts. And it is in the 


_ right management of ourselves, as to these things, 


that the art of holy living chiefly consists. — 
4. Gross sins are plainly seen, and easily avoid- 


ed by persons that profess religion, But the in- 


discreet and dangerous use of innocent and lawful 
things, as it does not shock our consciences, so it is 


“difficult to make people at all sensible of the danger 


or it. 3 

“ gentleman that expends all his estate in sports, 
and a woman that lays out all her fortune upon her- 
self, can hardly be persuaded that the spirit of reli- 
gion cannot subsist in such a way of life. 

These persons may live free from debaucheries ; 
they may be friends of religion, so far as to praise 
and speak well ofit: but it cannot govern their 
hearts, and be the spirit of their actions, till they 
change their way of life. , 

For a woman that loves dress, that thinks no ex- 
pense too great to bestow upon the adorning of her 
person, cannot stop there ; for that temper draws a 
thousand other follies along with it, and will re 
the whole course of her life, her business, her con- 
versation, her hopes, her fears, her taste, her plea- 
sures, and diversions, all suitable to it. a 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 59 


5. Flavia and Miranda are two maiden sisters 
that have each of them two hundred pounds a year. 
They buried their parents twenty years ago, and 
have since that time spent their estate as they 
pleased. © ‘ a 

Flavia has been the wonder of all her friends, for 
her excellent management, in making so surprising 
a figure in so moderate a fortune. Several ladies 
that have twice her fortune, are not able to be always 
so genteel, and so constant at places of pleasure 
and expense. She has every thing that isin the 
fashion, and is in every place where there is any di- 
version. Flavia is very orthodox, she talks warm- 
ly against heretics and schismatics, is generally at _ 
church, and oftenatthe sacrament. She once com- 
mended a sermon that was against the vanity of 
dress, and thought it was very just against Lucinda, 
whom she takes to bea great deal finer than she need 
be. If any oneasks Flavia to do something in char- 
ity, if she likes the person that makes the proposal, 
or happens to be ina right temper, she will toss him 
half a crown or a crown, and tell him, if he knew 
what a long milliner’s bill she had just received, he 
would think ita great deal for her to give. A quar- 
ter of a yearafter this, she hears a sermon upon the 
necessity of charity; she thinks the man preaches 
well; that it is a very proper subject; that people 
want much to be put in mind of it; but she applies 
nothing to herself, because she remembers that she 
gave a crown sometime ago, when she could so ill” 
Spare if. e f 

6. As for poor people themselves, she will admit 
of no complaints from them ; she is very positive’ 
they are all cheats and liars, and will say any thing’ 
to get relief; and therefore it must be a sin to en- 
courage them in their’evil ways. 

You- would think Flavia had the tenderest con- 


—_ a 


= 


re ee eee eee 


ea 


any of them, without being cor 
ff or 


“a 
Jes, 
60) A SERIOUS CALD 
science in the world, if you were to see how scru- 


pulous she is of the guilt and danger of giving amiss. 


7. She buys all books of wit and humour, and 


has made an expensive collec 
oets. For she says, one car 


ot have a true taste of 


leg 


She will. sometimes read.a book of piety, if it is 


_ +a short one, if it is much commended for style and 


language, and she can tell where to borrow it. 
Flavia is very idle, and yet very fond of fine 


Ox 
4 


work. This makes her often sit. working meebed 4 


until noon, and be told many a long story before 


_ she is up; so that J] need not tell you h rning 


devotions are not always rightly performed. 
Flavia would be a isistale of piety, if she was 
but half so careful of her soul, as she is of her body. 
The rising of a pimple in her face, the sting of a 
gnat, will make her keep her room two or three 
days, and she thinks they are very rash people that 
do not. take care of things in time. This makes 


her so over careful of her health, that she never. 


thinks she is well enough; and so over indulgent, 
that she can never be really well. So that it costs 
her a great deai in sleeping-draughts and waking- 
draughts, in spirits for the head, in drops for the 


on ofall our English’ 


_versant with them 


nerves, in cordials for the stomach, and in saffron 


for her tea. Pe 

8. If you visit Flavia on the Sunday, you will al- 
ways meet good company, you will know what is 
doing in the world, you will hear the last lampoon, 
be told who wrote it, and who is meant by every 
name that is in it. You will hear what plays were 


acted that week, which is the finest song in the ’ 


epera, who was intolerable at the last assembly, and 
what games are most in fashion, Flavia thinks they 
are Atheists, that play at cards on the Sunday, but 
she will tell you the nicety of all the games, what 


_ 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 61 


~ 


cards she held, how she played them, and_ the his- 
tory of all that happened at play, as soon as she 
comes from church. If you would know who is 
rude and ill-natured, who is vain and foppish, who’ 
lives too high, and who is in debt; if you would 
know what is the quarrel at a certain house, or who 
and who are in love; if you would know how late 
Belinda comes home at night, what clothes she has 
bought, how she loves compliments, and what a long 
story she told at such a place; if you would know 
how cross Lucius is to his wife, what ill-natured 
things he says to her, when nobody hears him; if 
you would know how they hate one another in their 


hearts, though they appear so kind in public; you — 


must visit Flavia on the Sunday. But still she has 
so great a regard for the holiness of the day, that 
she has turned a poor old widow out of her house, 
asa profane wretch, for having been found once 
mending her clothes on the Sunday night. 

Thus lives Flavia; and if she lives ten years 
longer, she will have spent about- fifteen hundred 
and sixty Sundays after this manner. She will 


have wore about two hundred different suits of 


clothes. Out of this thirty years of her life, fifteen 
of them will have been disposed of in bed, and of 
the remaining fifteen about fourteen of them will 
have been consumed in eating, drinking, dressing, 
visiting, conversation, reading and hearing plays 
and romances, at operas, assemblies, balls and di- 
versions. For you may reckon all the time she is 
up thus spent, except about an hour and a half, that 


is disposed of at church, most Sundays in the year, © 


With great management and under mighty rules of 
economy, she will have spent sixty hundred pounds 


upon herself, bating only some shillings, crowns, or ~ 


half-crowns, that have gone from her in accidental 
charties. : 
9. I shall not take upon me to say, that it is im-- 
. .y - . 


ae. 


ae 


62 \4 . A SERIOUS CA bs 
possible for Flavia to be ed; but thus much — 
| mu seth, that her wh is in direct oppo: 
i * tio I those temp actices, which the ~ 


Lope i: tee _- SR oe + , 
as made necessary to salvation. “i a } 
we e to hear her say, that she hac i 4 
like Anna the’ prophetess, ‘* who depart- 
1 the temple, but served God with fast- 
prayers night and, day,” you would look 
very extravagant; and yet this would 
for her to say 
he strait. 
espel a 


| V 
OU Il 
7 


gate,” or making 

rule of her life. ~” 
spiapmay asi , 

viour when he was up 

in imitation of him, or mad 


any of her care ~ 
 tolive in such tempers, as he required of all thos» 
that would be his disciples. She may as truly say, 
that she has every ‘day washed the saints feét, as 
~ that she livedin Christian humil id poverty of 
“spirit ; and as reasonably think, that she has taught 
a charity-school, as that she has lived in works of 
arity. She has as much reason to think, that she 
s been a centinel in an army, as that she lived in 
watching and self-denial. And it may as fairly be 
said, that she lived by the labour of her hands, as that 
she had “ given all diligence to make her calling 
wand election sure.” 2 
- 10. And here it is to be well observed, that the 
poor, vain turn of mind, the folly and vanity of 
this whole life of Flavia, is all owing to the manner 
‘of using her estate. It is this that has formed het 
spirit, that has given life to every idle temper. 
has supported every trifling passion, and 
from all thoughts of a prudent, useful, ane 
life. as 
When her parents died, she had no th 
her two hundred:pounds a year, but tha 


ese Pee? 


\ To a HOLY LIFE. Hie 6D) 


much money t o what she would with, to spend. 


upon herself, and purchase the pleasures and grati- 


d 
fications of all her passions. 


urn; hi t concerned her 
"dress, careless of 


ody... ue 
pel her 


‘soul, always wanting some nev 
ment, and ready for every happy invent 
r dress, it was because she had purcha ese 
empers with’ her yearly revenue. re ae 

11. She might have been humble, serious, devout, 
a lover of good books, an admirer of prayer and re- 
tirement, careful of her time, diligent in good works, 
full of charity and the love of God; but that the im- 
prudent use of her estate forced all the contrary 
tempers upon her. . 

And it was no wonder that she should turn her 
time, her mind, her health, and strength, to the same 
uses that she turned her fortune. _ It is owing to her 
being wrong in so great an article of life, that you 
can see nothing wise, or pious, in any other part 
of it. & 
12. And as Flavia is undone by the unreason- 
able use of her fortune ; so the lowness of most peo- 
ple’s virtue, the imperfections of their piety, and 
the disorders of their passions, are generally owing 
to their imprudent use of lawful things. 

More people are kept from a true sense of reli- 
gion, by a regular kind of sensuality, than by gross 
drunkenness. More men live regardless of the 


-entertain- 


ie 


"y thing that might — a, 


64 A SERIOUS CALL ky Fe 


great duties of piety through too great a concern 
for worldly goods, than through direct injustice. 
tS. This man would perhaps be devout if he was 
aera ee a deaf to all the motives 
to piety, by indulging an idle slothful temper. — 
; Gould is dare this man of his SeAbsity and 
_ Inquisitive temper, or that of his false satisfaction 
and thirst afteglearning, you need do no more to 
mate them both become men of great piety. 
if this woman would make fewer visits, or th 


not be always talking, they would neither of them 


find it hard to be aired with eee ti 


Would we therefore make a real progress im re- 
ligion, we must not only abhor gross and notorious 
sins ; but regulate the innocent and lawful parts of 


eur behaviour, and put the common actions of life 
under the rules of discretion and piety. 


ma 


CHAPTER VII. 


How the wise and pious use of an Estate carrieth us 
to all the virtues of the Christan Life ; represent- 
ed in the character of Miranda. : 


1. Miinanna (the sister of Flavia) is a sober, rea- 
sonable Christian. “As soon as she was mistress 
of her time and fortune, it was her first thought how 
she might best fulfil every thing that God required 
of her in the use of them, and make the best use of 
this short life. She depends upon the truth of 
what our blessed Lord hath said * that there is but 
one thing needful ;” and therefore makes her whole 
life but one continual labour after it. She has but 
one reason for doing, or not doing, for liking or not 


y 


rn 


we 


+ 
_ To A HOLY LIFE. atin 65 


liking any hic and that i is, t fo will of Goa. She 44 
is not so.v ak as to pre nd to add, what is ealtedk a 
the fine lady, to the true Christian ; Miranda thinks 
too well, to be taken with the sound of such silly 
ords. She has renounced the world, to. follow. 
arist in the exercise of humility, charit} 7, devotion, % 
abstinence, and heavenly affections ; and ‘that. is. 
‘Miranda’s fine breeding. “ ff 
» - Whilst she was under her mother, shal was Preeti 
to live in ceremony, to sit up late at nights, to be 
in the folly of every fashion, to go loaded with finery ne 
to the holy sacrament, to be in every polite con-. 
versation, to hear profaneness at the play-house, 
and wanton songs and love intrigues at the opera, 
to dance at public places, that fops and rakes might ibe 
admire the fineness of her shape, and the bgauty 
of her motions. ‘The remembrance of this way of e 
life, makes her exceeding careful to maintain a 
contrary behaviour. ey, 
2. Miranda does not divide her duty between God, — 
her neighbour, and herself ; but she considers all 
as due to God, and so does every thing for his sake. 
This makes her consider her fortune as the gift of 
God, that is -to be used as every thing is that be- 
longs to God, for the wise and reasonable ends of a 
Christian life. Her fortune therefore is divided 
betwixt herself and several other poor people, and 
she has only her part of relief from it. She thinks 
it the same folly to indulge herself in needless ex- 
penses, as -to give to other people to spend in the 
same way ; therefore, as she will not give a poor 
" man money to go see a puppet-shew ; neither will 
she allow herself any to spendin the same manner, _ 
thinking it very proper to be as wise herselfasshe . | 
expects poor men shouldbe. For is it a folly and. 
‘acrime ina poor man, says Miranda, to waste 
_~-what is given him in trifles, whilst he wants. meat, 
drink, and clothes? And is it less folly or a less 
F 2 


‘y 


66 ; ‘eg CALL ' 
crime in me, to spend that ame silly diveisibie, 
which might be so much better spent in imite 
the divine goodness, in works of kindness | 
j fellow-creatures? Ifa poor man’s ssi 
ae eason why he should not waste any of his ¢ 
ioney idly, surely the necessi of the p por; and 
he exteHiney of charity, is a much B2 
why no one should waste any of his mo 
_ if he does so, he does not only like the poor man, » _ 
“qwaste that which he wants himself; but he wastes 
_ that which is wanted for the most noble uses, and 
a which Christ himself is ready to re 
“hands. And.if we are angry at 2 poor 
_ he throws away that which should buy his 
bread, how must we appear in the sight God, if 
es “we make a wanton idle use of that which would bu 
bread and clothes for our hungry and naked breth- 
| ten, who are as near and dear to God as we are, 
nd fellow-heirs of the same glory ? This is the 
spirit of Miranda ; she is only one of acertaia num- 
ber of poor people that are relieved out of her for- 
tune ; and she only differs from them in the blessed- 
ness of giving. s, 

3. If you was to see her, you would wond what 
poor body it was, that was so surprisingly ne at and 
clean. She has but one rule in her dress, to’ 
always clean, and in the cheapest things. or 

» thing about her resembles the purity of her soul ; 
and she is always clean without, because she is al- f 
ways pure within. i ee 

Every morning sees her early at her prayers. 
She rejoices in the beginning of every day, because — 
it begins all her rules of holy living, and brings the 
fresh pleasure of repeating them. “She is asa guar- 

_ dian angel to those that dwell about her, with her 

- watchings and prayers, blessing the place where 

- she dw ole and making intercession with God for 
those that-are asleep. 


Sr ee Ser 


Va>. 


has 


ace \ * ¢ 


ws o og hay 


_TO A HOLY LIFE. ~ 67 — 


e. 3 Bei * 

Her devotions have had some intervals, before — 
the light is suffered to enter into her sister’s rooms _ 
Miranda does not know what it is tohave a dull 
half-day ; the returns of her hours of prayer, and 
her religious exercises, come -too often to. let any — 
considerable part of time lie heavy upon her hands. 

A, When you see her at work, you se 
wisdom that governs all her other 


actions. She is 


had th labour of her hands. 
ther waits the amusement, nor can bear with the 


folly of idle and impertinent work. When there is 


no useful or charitable work to be done, Miranda 

will work no more. ; i | 
At her table she lives strictly by this.rule of holy ) 

scripture, ‘‘ whether ye eat or drink, omivhatsoever 


ye do, do all to the glory of God.” This makes her 
begin and end every meal, as she begins and ends 
every day, with acts of devotion. She eats and 
drinks only for the sake of living, and with so reg- 
ular an abstinence, that every meal is an exercisé 
of self-denial. If Miranda was to run a race for her 
life, she would submit to a diet that was proper for 
it; but asthe race which isset before her,isarace 
of holiness and heavenly affection, which she is to af 
finish in a disordered body of earthly passions; so — 

her every day diet has this one end, to make her 
body fitter for this spiritual race. “She does not 
weigh her meat in a pair of scales ; but she weighs 
it ina much better balance: so much as givesa pro- | 4 
per strength to her body, and renders it able and ) 
willing to obey the soul, to join in psalms and pray- 4 
ers, and lift up eyes and hands towards heaven with 
greater readiness, so much is Miranda’s meal. So 


& 


POT ais) 


1 Pw « 
68 A SERIOUS CALL © é 
In P 


that Miranda, will never have her eyes swell w it 
fatness, till she has changed herreligion. = 
pA The holy scriptures, especially of the ee 
_ Testament, are her daily study; these she reads 


3 with a. watchfubattention, constantly casting an eye 


| upon herself, and trying herself, by every doctrine © 


that is there. When she has the New Testament in 
2 her hand, she supposes herself at the (ellie 3a 
_-viour and his apostles ; and makes every thing that 
she learns of them so many laws of her life. She 
receives their words with as much : ttention.a d 
"reverence, as if she saw their persons, and kni 
' “a they were just come frona heaven, on per 
~ to teach herthe way that leads to it. a 

_ She thinks that the trying herself ever by, 
the scripture, is the only way to be ready rae the 
. trial at the last day. 

' Of all human writings, the lives of pious persons 
and emi aints, are her greatedtielignt Tn 
these she searches as for hidden treasure, hoping 


By this means Miranda has her head and hearts 


- She is so full of the one business of life, that ‘she 
finds it difficult to converse upon amy other su 
ject; and if you-are in sher company, you ‘must be’ 
| made wiser and better, whether you will or no, 
6. To relate her charity would be to relate the 
history of every day for twenty years; for so long 


to find some secret of | holy living, some uncemmon. " 
degree of piety, which she may make her own,— — 


_ ed with all the principles of wisdom and holiness. | ' 


we 


- 


: 
" 


has all her fortune been spent that way. She has % 


\ set up near twenty poor tradesmen that had fail 

in their business, and saved as many fro failing 

- She has educated several poor children, t that were 
picked up in the streets, and put them in an ho. 
employment. As soon as any labourer is confi 
at home with any sickness, she sends him, til 
recovers, twice the value of his wages, that 


— 


: R 4 i %, 
oot r ~~ ate or 


have one ee to give to his family, as usue pend 


. 


Uy ' 
‘TO A HOLY LIFE. 6 


the other to proyide things convenient for his 
sickness. Y J 

ifa family seems too large to be supported by 
the labour of those that can work in it, she pays 
their rent, and gives them something yearly towards 
their clothing. By this means there are many 
poor families that live in a comfortable manner, and 
are from year to year blessing her in their prayers. 
If there is any poor man or woman that is more 


than ordinary wicked, Miranda has her eye upon 
them: she watches theiv time of adversitys and if 
she can discover they are in straits or affliction, 


she gives them speedy relief. She has this care 
for this sort of people, because she once saved a 
profligate person from being carried to prison, who 
unmediately became a true penitent. 

7. There is nothing in the character of Miranda 
‘more to be admired than this temper. For this 
tenderness towards the most abandoned sinners, is 
the highest instance of a Godlike soul. 

Miranda once passed by a house, where the man 
and wife were cursing and swearing at one another 
in a most dreadful manner, and three children cry- 
ing about them. This sight so much affected her 
compassionate mind, that she went the next day and 
bought the three children, that they might not be 
ruined by living with such wicked parents. ‘They 
now live with Miranda, are blessed with her care 
and prayers, and all the good works which she can 
do for them. ‘They hear her talk, they see her 
live, they join with her in psalms and prayers.— 
The eldest of them has already converted his pa- 
rents from their wicked life, and shews a turn of 
mind so remarkably pious, that Miranda intends 
. him for holy orders: that being thus saved himself, 
he may do to other miserable objects, as she has 
dote to him. 
Miranda is a cor * 


70. A SERIOUS CALL 
their misfortunes and accidents. _ There are some- 
‘times little misfortunes that happen them, which of 
themselves they could never be able to overcome. 
The death of a cow, or a horse, or some little rob- 
bery, would keep them in distress all their lives. 
She does not suffer them to grieve under such ac- 
cidents. She immediately gives them the full val- 
ue of their loss, and makes use of it as a means of 
raising their minds to God. Ce, bi 

_ She has a great tenderness for old people that are 
past their labour. ‘The parish allowance to such is 
seldom a comfortable maintenance. For this rea- 
son they are the constant objects of her care. She 
adds so much to their allowance, as somewhat ex- 
ceeds the wages they got when they wee young 


This she does to comfort the infirmities of their age, 


that, being free from trouble, they may serve Go 
in peace. She has generally a large number of 
this kind, who, by her charities and:exhortations, 
spend their last days in great piety. 

_9. Miranda never wants compassion, even to 
common beggars; especially those that are old or 
sick, or that want eyes, or limbs. She hears their 
complaints with tenderness, gives them some proof 
of her kindness, and never rejects them with hard 
or reproachful language, for fear of adding affliction 
to her fellow creatures. watch 


Ifa poor traveller tells her, that he has neither 


strength, nor food, nor money left, she never bids 
him go to the place from whence he came, or tells 
him that she cannot relieve him, because he may 
be a cheat, and she does not know him; but she 
relieves him for that reason, because he is a stran- 
ger, and unknown to her. For it is the most noble 
part of charity, to be kind to those whom we never 
saw before, and perhaps never may see again in 
I was a stranger and ye took me in, 

Aas who ‘can: perform 


a 


, 


e + 


v 


this duty, that will not relieve persons that are un- 
known to him ? ial 


Miranda considers, that Lazarus was a common. _ 


beggar; that he was the care of angels, and car- 
ried into Abraham’s bosom. She considers, that 
our blessed Saviour and his apostles were kind to 
beggars: that they spoke comfortably to them, 
healed their diseases, and restored eyes and limbs 
to the blind and lame; that Peter said to the beg- 
gar that wanted an alms from him, “ Silver and gold 
have I none, but such as I have, give I thee; in 
the-name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and 
walk.’? Miranda therefore never treats beggars, 
with disregard and aversion, but imitates the kind- 
ness of our Saviour and his apostles towards them : 
and though she cannot, like them, work miracles 
for their relief, yet she relieves them with that pow- 
er that she hath; and may say with. the apostle, 
“such as I haye, give I thee, in the name of Jesus 
Christ.’ 

It may be, says Miranda, that I may often give 
to those that do not deserve it, or that will make an 
use of my alms. But what then? Ts not this the 
very method of divine goodness? Does not God 
make ‘his sun to rise on the evil, and on the 
good 2” Is not this the very goodness that is recom= 
mended to us in scripture, that by imitating of it, 
we may be children of our Father which is in heav- 
en, “who-sendeth rain on the just and on the un- 
just ?”” And shall J withhold a little money or food 


from my fellow creature, for fear he should not be - 


good enough to receive it of me? Do I beg of God 
to deal with me, not according to my merit, but ac- 
cording to his own goodness ; and shall I be so ab- 
surd, as to withhold my charity from a poor brother, 
because he may perhaps not deserve it? shall I 
use a measure towards him, which I pray God nev- 
er to use towards me? | 


TO A HOLY LIFE. Rhee 


a 


= Fae 


on . : on. 
72 A SERIOUS CALL i 


Besides, where has the scripture made merit the 

rule or measure ef charity? On the contrary, the 

scripture saith, “if thy enemy hunger, feed cm if 
he thirst, give himdrink.” ae, i 

. “uN ow this plainly teaches us that the merit of per- 


i sons: is to be no rule of our charity, but that we are 


_ to do acts of kindness to those that least of all de- 
serve it. For if I am tolove and to do good to my 
worst enemies ; notwithstanding all their spite and 
malice, surely merit is no measure of charity. If 
I am not to withhold my charity from such bad peo- 
ple, surely ] am not to deny alms to poor beggars, 
whom J do not know to be bad people. : 

11. You will perhaps say, that by this means I 
encourage people to be beggars. But the same 
thoughtless objection may be made against all 
-kiods of charities, for they may encourage people 
te depend upon them. The same may be said 
against forgiving our enemies, for it may encourage 
people to do us hurt. ‘The same may be said even 
against the goodness: of God, that by pouring his 
blessings on the evil and on the good, on the just 
and’on the ur ust, evil and unjust men are encour- 
aged in them pratcted ways. The same may be 
said against clothing the naked, or giving medi- 
cines to the sick, for that may encourage people to’ 
neglect themselves, and be careless of their health. 

_ But when the “love of God dwelleth in you,” and 
‘has filled you with bowels of mercy, you will make 
no more such objections as these. cnr 

When you are at any time turning away the poor, 
the old, the sick and helpless traveller, the lame, or- 
the blind, ask yourself this question, De J siacerely 
wish these poor creatures may be as happy as Laz- 
arus, that was carried by angels into Abraham’s bo- 
som? Do | sincerely desire that God would make 
them fellow-heirs with me in eternal glory? Now if 
vou search into your soul, you will find that there is 


ve 


- i We a 
“ei “TO A HOLY LIFE. 73 


none of these-motions there, that you are wishing 
nothing of this, ‘or it is impossible for any one 
heartily to wish a poor creature so great a happi- — 
ness, and yet not have a heart to give him a small 
alms. For this reason, says Miranda, as faras I can, 
I give to all, because I pray to God to forgive all ; 
and I cannot refuse an alms to those whom I pray 
God to bless, whom [ wish to be partakers_of eter- 
nal glory ; but am glad toshew some degree of love 
to such, as I hope, will be the objects of the infinite 
love of God. And if, as our Saviour has assured 
us, “it be more blessed to give than to receive,” we 
ought to look upon those that ask our alms, as so 
many friends and benefactors, that come todo usa 
/ greater good than they can receive ; that come tobe ~ 

witnesses of our charity, to be monuments of our 
love, to appear for us at the day of judgment, and to 
help us to a blessedness greater than our alms can 
bestow on them. * ; 43 

12. This is the spirit, and this is the life of Mi- 
randa; and if she lives ten years longer, s 
have spent sixty hundred pounds in 
that which she allows herself, 
oned amongst her alms. © ae Bes 

When she dies, she’ must shine amongst apostles, 
and saints, and martyrs: she must stand amongst 
the first servants of God, and be glorious amongst 
those that have fought the good fight, and finished 
their course with joy. 4 "i 

13. Now this life of Miranda, however contrary ay 
to the fashion of the world, is yet suitable to the true ei 
spirit of christianity. 

To live as she does, is as truly suitable to the gos- 
pel of Christ, as to be baptized, or receive the sacra- 
ment. - “8 

Her spirit is that which animated the saints of 
former ages; and itis because they lived as she 


¢ iS 2k a 


* 


BE OK ae 


Th A SERIOUS CALL 


does, that we now celebrate their memories, and 


praise God for their examples. ees ald ie 
_. There is nothing whimsical, trifling, or unreason- 
able:in her character: but every thing tl ere des- 
cribed, isa proper instance of solid piety; 
_ 14. It is as easy to shew, that it is whimsical to 
go to church, as that it is whimsical to observe any 
of theserules. For all Miranda’s rules of living to 
God, of spending her time and fortune, of eating, 
working, dressing, and conversing,.are as substan- 
tial parts ofan holy life, as devotion and prayer.. 

For there is nothing to be said or the wisdom of 
devotion, but what is as good an argument for the 
wise and reasonable use of apparel. _ wo 

If you fancy that it is your only folly, and that 
therefore there can be no. great matter in it; you are 
like those that think they are only guilty of the folly 
of covetousness or ambition. Now though some 


people may live so plausible a life, as to appear 


chargeable with no other fault than covetousness or 
ambition ; yet the case is not as it appears, for cov- 
ambition cannot subsist ina heart that 
ts rightly devoted to God. 

7 anner, though people-may spend most 
that they have inneedless ornaments, and yet seem in 
other respects truly pious, yet it is certainly false ; 
for it is impossible for a mind that is in a true state 


of religion, to be vain in the use of clothes. Now to 
convince yo this, let us suppose that some emi- 
nent saint, for instance, the virgin Mary, was sent 


into the world for a few years, and that you was 
going to her to be edified by her piety, would you 
expect to find her dressed out and adorned in fine 
and expensive clothes? No. You would know in . 
your own mind, that it was as impossible as to find 
her learning to dance. Do but add saint, or holy, 
to any person, either man or woman, and your own 


-mind tells you immediately, that such a character 


& 


>= 


‘TO A HOLY LIFE, 75 


cannot admit of the vanity of fine apparel. A saint 
finely dressed, is as great nonsense, as an apostle 
in an embroidered suit. .Every one’s own natural 
sense convinces him of the inconsistency of these 
things. | ee 

16. Now what is the reason, that when you thinlx 
of a saint you cannot admit the vanity of apparel ? 
Is it not because it is inconsistent with such a right 
state of heart? And is not this a demonstration, that 
where such vanity is admitted, there a right state of 
heart is wanted? For as certainly as the virgin 
Mary could not indulge herself, or conform to the 
vanity of the world in dress, and figure: so certain 
is it, that none can indulge themselves in this vani- 
ty, but those who want her piety of heart; and con- 
sequently it must be owned, that all needless and 
expensive finery is the effect of a disordered heart. 

Covetousness is not a crime, because there isany 
harm in gold or silver; but because it is a foolish 
and unreasonable state of mind, that is fallen from 
its true good, and sunk into such a poor and wretch- 
ed satisfaction. Seeks ee 

In like manner, the expensiye finery of dress is 
nota crime, because there is any thing good or evil 
in clothes, but because the expensive ornaments of 
clothing shews a foolish and unreasonable state of 
heart, that is fallen from right notions jef human na- 
ture, and turns the necessities of 
instances of pride and folly. . 

17. This therefore is the way that you are to 
judge of the crime of vain apparel; itis an offence 
against the proper use of clothes, as covetousness is 
an offence against the proper use of money: it is 
an indulgence of proud and unreasonable tempers, 
an offence against the humility and sobriety of the 
Christian spirit: it is an offence against all those 
doctrines that require you to do all to the glory 

of God, and an offence against all sie A of 
. 3 - Bao 


Po] 


ae ea ee 


fi an Le ay 


76 yA SERIOUS CALL. 


scripture, that command you to love your neigh- 


' ,bour as yourself, to feed the hungry, to clothe the 


naked, and'do all works of charity that you are 
able. So that you must not deceive yourself with 
saying, where can be the harm of clothes? For the 
Covetous man might as well say, where can be the 
harm of gold or silver? But you must consider, that 
it isa great deal of harm to want that wise and rea- 
sonable state’ of heart, which is according to the 
spirit of religion, and which no one can have in the 


- manner that he ought to have it, who indulges him- — 
self either in the vanity of dress, or the desire of 


riches. P 

18. Some persons perhaps, who admire the life 
of Miranda, may say, How can it be proposed as a 
common example? How can we that are married, 
or we who are under the direction of our parents, 
imitate such a life? Bt 


* It is answered, just as you may imitate the life of 
our blessed Saviour and his apostles. The cir- 
cumstances of our Saviour’s life, and the state and 
condition of his apostles, were more different from 
yours, than that of Miranda is; and yet their life 
is the common example that is “proposed to all 
Christians. 

It is their spirit therefore, their piety, their love of 


God, that you are to imitate, and not the particular 


form of their life. ' 

Act under God as they did, direct your common 
actions to that end which they did, practice such 
love of God, such charity to your neighbour, such 
humility and self-denial, as they did; and then, 
though you are only teaching your own children, 
and St. Paul is converting nations, yet you are fol- 
lowing his steps, and acting after his example. 

19. Do not think therefore, that you cannot or 
need not be like Miranda, because you are not in 


‘her state of life; foras the same spirit and temper 


e 


‘ e : ~~ i j ee : 
TO A HOLY LIFEs ma 

would haye made Miranda a saint, though she ha 
been forced to labour for a maintenance; so if j 
will aspire after her spirit, every condition of life 
will furnish you with sufficient means of employing 
Mease oz >? : ; 
Miranda is what she is, because she does every F 
thing in the name, and with regardtoherduty to 
God; and when you do the same, you will be ex- 
actly like her, though you are never so different in 
your outward state. , 
_ You are married, you say, therefore you have. 
~ your time and fortune in your power as she ~ 

S. a ; 
It is true ; therefore you cannot spend so much 
time; nor so much money, in the manner she does. 

But Miranda’s perfection does not consist in this, 
that she spends so much time, or so much money in 
such a manner, but that she is careful to make the 
best use of all the time and money which she has. 
Do you'this, and then you are like Miranda. 

If she has two hundred pounds a-year, and you 
have only two mites, have you not the more reason 
to be exceeding exact in the wisest use of them? 
If she has a great deal of time, and you have but a 
little, ought you not to be the more watchful and 
circumspect, lest that little should be lost ? 

+ a 
a 
Be. = ig. 


© 


, 


| A/SERIOUS CALL 


wt ] , 3S [ss 5 ja . ed oe 
4 vif _ © CHAPTER Vill. cay kig 
i: siakt | hd 
She wing that all orders of m men and women, of all 
: ages, are obliged to devot mseloes to God ’ 


peas T wave in the foregoing chapters ehewn that 

i all the parts of our common life, our employments, 
our talents and fortune, are to be made holy and 
acceptable unto God, by a wise and religious use of 
every thing, and by ‘directing our actions — de- 
signs to the glory of God. 

I shall now shew, that this holiness of common 
life, this religious use of every thing we have, is a 
— that is the duty of all orders of Christian 

le. 

“Falvius has had a learned education? and taken 
his degrees in the university ; he came from thence, 
that he might be free from any rules of life. He 
takes no employment upon him, nor nters into 
any business, because he'thinks that every employ- 

_ ment or business calls people to the just seize 
of its several duties. He did not enter into holy 
orders, because he looks upon it to be a state that 
requires great holiness of life, and it does not suit 
his temper to be so good. He will tell you that 
he never intends to marry, because he cannot 
oblige himself to that regularity of life, which he 
takes to he the duty of those that are at the head of 
a family. He refused to be godfather to his ne- 
phew, because he will have no trust of any kind to. 
answer for. 

Fulvius thinks that he is ‘conscientious in. this 
_. conduct, and is therefore content with the most idle, 
_. impertinent and careless life. 

He has no religion, no devotion, no pretences to 


: : Sia 
, ; i eee 


Jy Oe , Zo. ee (a a ‘gael he ko ie 4 94 69 4 


s 3 


piety. He lives by no rules, and thinks all is ver 
well, because he is neither a priest, nor a fathe 
nora guardian, nor has any employment or family to 
look after. . aa ks or 

2, But Fulvius, you are a rational creature, and F 
as such, are as much obliged to live according ~~ 
to reason, as a priest is obliged to attend at the ; 
altar, or a guardian to be faithful to his trust; if — — 
you: live contrary to reason, you do not commit a 
small crime, you do not break a small trust ; but 
you break the law of nature, you rebel against God 
who gave you that nature, and put yourself amongst 
those whom the God of reason will punish as apos- 
tates and, deserters. 

Though you have no employment, yet as you are 
baptised into the profession of Christ’s religion, 
you are as much obliged to live according to the 
‘holiness of the Christian spirit, as any man is obli- 
ged to be honest and faithful in his calling. If you 
abuse this great calling, you are not false in a small 
matter, but you abuse the precious blocd of Christ ; 
you crucify the Son of God afresh ; you neglect 
the highest instances of divine goodness ; and it 
will be more tolerable for ‘‘Tyre and Sidon, at the 
day of judgment, than for you.” 

3. It is therefore great folly for any one to think “ 
himself at liberty to live as he pleases, because he 
is not in such a state of life as some others are: for 
if there is any thing dreadful in the abuse of any 
trust; if there is any thing to be feared for the neg- 
Ject of any calling ; there is nothing more to be fear- 
ed than the wrong use of our reason, nor any thing 
more to be dreaded, than the neglect of our Chris-— 
tian calling ; which is not to serve the little uses of 
a short life, but to redeem souls unto God, to fill 
heaven with saints, and furnish a kingdom of eternal 
glory. - ' 

No man therefore must think himself excused 


TO A HOLY LIFE. Th 4 


"ing to God in an idle priest, or a reprobate f 


86 _ A SERIOUS CALL 


from the exactness of piety, because he has chosen 
to be idle and independent in the-world; for the 
sities of a holy life are not founded in the sey- 


eral conditions of this life, but in the immutable 


re of God and the nature of man. A mani isenot 
to be reasonable and holy, because he is’a priest, 
or a father of a family; but he is to be a pious 
priest, and a good father, because piety and good- 
ness are the laws of human nature. Could any 
man please God, without living according to rea- 
son and order, there would be nothing displeas- 


He therefore that abuses his reason; is like him that 
- abuses the priesthood; and he that neglects the + 
liness of the Christian life; isas the man that disre- 
one ARS aN trust. ce ee a 
4, If aman was to choose to put out his eyes, 
rather than enjoy the light, and ce th etcal 
God; ifhe should voluntarily kill himse 
ing to eat and drink, every one wo 
such a one was a rebel against God, 
served his highest indignation. You 
say, that this was only sinful in a priest, 
ter of a family, but in every man as such, _ 
Now wherein does the sinfulness of this be 
iour consist? does it not consist in this, that he 
abuses his nature, and refuses to act that part for 
which God had created him? But if this be true 
then,all persons that abuse their reason, 
different part from that for which 
‘them, are like this man, rebels,against Go 
the same account subject to his wraiths wed 
5. Let us suppose that this man, instead of put- 
ting out his eyes, had only employed them in look- 
ing at ridiculous things, or shut them up in sleep; 
that instead of starving himself to death by not eat- 
ing at all, he should turn every meal into a. feast, 
and eat and drink like an epicure; could he be 


Pat, 


» 


‘TO A HOLY LIFE. 


81 
said to have lived more to the glory of God? pee F 
“he any more be said to act the part for whichGod 
had created him, than if he had put out his eyes, 
and starved himself to death? hy 
Now do but suppose a man extinguishing his 
reason, instead of putting out his eyes, and living 
in a course of folly and impertinence, instead of 
starving himself to gat, and then you have found 
- out as great a rebel against God. ¥ 
6. If we consider mankind as a redeemed order 
of fallen spirits, that are baptised into a fellowship 
with the Son of God; to be temples of the Holy 
Ghost: to live according to his holy inspirations ; 
to offer to God the reasonable sacrifice of an hum- 
ble, pious, and thankful life; to purify themselves 
from the disorders of their fall; to nake a right use 
of the means of grace, in order to be sons of eternal 
lory: if we look at mankind in this true light, then 
we shall find, that all tempers that are contrary to 
this holy society; all actions that make us unlike 
to Christ, have every thing in them that can make 
us odious toGod. So that though pride and sen- 
suality do not hurt civil society, as cheating and 
dishonesty do; yet they hurt that society, and op- 
pose those ends, which are greater and more glo- 
rious in the eyes of God, than all the societies that 
relate to this world. ns 
“7. Nothing therefore can be more foolish, than 
to imagine, that because we are private persons 
who have taken upon us no charge or employment 
therefore we may live more at large, indulge our 
appetites, and be less careful of holiness; for it is» , 
as good an excuse for cheating and dishonesty. 
Because he that abuses his reason, that indulges 7 
himself in lust and sensuality, and neglects to act 
the wise and reasonable part of a Christian, has ev- 
‘ery thing in his life to render him hateful to God, 
that is to be found in cheating and dishonesty. 


2 aN ae 


icur 


r : . ya 1 24S 
eighbour in his goods, you have made no kb 


Bee of words, or forms of thanksg 


if this be the reason of verbal praiss 


as Se SE 


82 A SERIOUS CALL 


_ Iftherefore you rather choose to be an idle ep: 


>, than to be unfaithful; if you rather ch 
fe in lust and sensuality, than to injure 


Bpeion for the favour of God, than he that rath- 

‘chooses to rob a house than to roba church. — 
For the abusing of our ownnature, isas greata 

disobedience against God, as the injuring our 


neighbour ; and he that wants" piety towards God, 
> or Sj i e that 


has done as much to damn him 
wants honesty towards men. © 5 
8. Another argument to prove that all’ 
men are obliged to be be y in the 
course of their lives, in the use of every t 
they enjoy, may be taken from our obli 
prayer. Eich Ate 
‘It is granted, that prayer is a duty 
to all states and conditions of men. 
enquire, why no state of life is to be e 
prayer, we shall find it as good a rea: 
ery state of life is to be made a state 
all its parts. ie 
- For the reason why we are to pra 
praise him with hymns and psalms of 
is because we are to Jive wholly to God, 
fy him in all possible ways. It is not b 


more particularly parts of piety, or m¢ 
ship of God than other things; but i 
thee, are possible ways of expressing @ 
ence, our obedience and devotion te 


ings, because we are to live unto God 
ble ways; then we are equally oblige 
‘God in all other actions that can be 
acts of piety and obedience. And a: 
of much more significancy than words, a tbea 
much more acceptable worship of God, to glorify 


‘to , a *, 


"O A HOLY LIFE. 83 


My 


him in all the actions of our common life, than with 


‘any little form of words at any particular times. 


' Thus, if God is to be worshipped with forms of — 


thanksgiving, he that is content and thankful in ey- 
ery accident of his life, because it comes from God, 
praises God in a much higher manner, than he that 
has some set time for singing of psalms. He that 
dares not say an ill-natured word, or do an unrea- 
sonable thing, because he considers God as every 
where present, performs a better devotion, than he 
that dares not miss the church. To live in the 
world as a stranger and a pilgrim, using all its en- 
joyments as if we used them not, making all our 
actions so many steps towards a better life, is offer- 
ing a better sacrifice to God, than any forms of ho- 
ly and heavenly prayers. 

. 9. To be humble in all our actions, to avoid eve- 
ry appearance of pride and vanity, to be meek and 
lowly in our words, actions, dress, behaviour, and 
designs, in imitation of our blessed Saviour, is. wor- 
shipping God ina higher manner, than those do 
who have only times to fall low on their knees.— 
mie that Contents himself with necessaries, that he 
- may give the remainder to those that want it; that 
dares not to spend any money foolishly, because he 
considers it as a talent from God, which must be 
used according to his will, praises God, with some- 
thing that is more glorious than songs of praise. 

_ Prayers therefore are so far from being a suffi- 
cient — that they are the smallest parts of it. 
We are to praise God with words and prayers, be- 
cause it is a possible way of glorifying God. But 
then, as words are but small things in themselves, 
as times of prayer are but little, if compared with 
the rest of our lives; so that devotion which only 
consists in times and forms of prayer, is but a very 
small thing, if compared to that devotion which is 


lle 


84 A SERIOUS CALL 


to appear in every other part and circumstance of 
our lives. ae 
10. Again, as it is an easy thing to worship God 
with forms of words, and to-observe times of of 
fering them unto him,’so it is the smallest'kind of 
piety. die e 
And, on the other hand, as it is more difficult to 
worship God with our substance, to honour him with 
the right use of our time, tojoffer to him the continu- 
al sacrifice of self-denial and moftii i i 
quires more piety to eat and. drink only for s 
ends as may glorify God, to undertake no [2 
nor allow of any diversion, but where we can 
the name of God; as it is most difficult to s 
all our corrupt tempers, and make piety to ¢ 
rule and measure of all the actions of oure¢ 
life : so the devotion of this kind is a mui 


ceptable service to God, than those w ords of 


tion which we offer to him either in the « 
our closet. 

Every sober reader will easily perce 
not intend to lessen the true and great y 
ers, either public or private; but only to 
that they are certainly but a very slender { 
devotion, when compared to a devout life. ~ 

11. To see this ina yet clearer light, le 
pose a person to have appointed times for 
God with psalms and hymns, and to be str 
observation of them; let it be supposed als 
his common life he is restless and uneasy, 
murmurings and complaints at every ie, ‘ne 
pleased but by chance, but murmuring and 
ning at the very seasons, and haying something tc 
dislike in every thing that happens to him. Now, 
can you conceive any thing more absurd and unrea- 
sonable, than such a character as this? Is such an 
one to be reckoned thankful to God, because he has 
forms of praise which he offers to him? Nay, is it 


icn mo 


‘TO A HOLY LIFE. 85 


not certain, that such forms of praise must be sofar 4 _ 
from being an acceptable devotion to God, that they 
¢ must be an abomination ? Now the absurdity which sed 
you seein this instance, is the same in any other | 
part of our life. If our common life hath any con- 
trariety to our prayers, it is the same abomination, 
as songs of thanksgiving in the mouths of murmur- 
zs _ ry 2 ‘ e 4 » 4 By. 
ps ei 
Bended knees, whilst you are clothed with pride ; 


en Ay fay 


the follies of the world; prayers of meekness. 
charity, whilst your heartis the seat of spite 
sentment ; hours of’prayer whilst you give 
rs and years to idle diversions, impertinent 
id foolish pleasures; are as. unacceptable 
0 God, as forms of thanksgiving froma per- 
ives in repinings and discontent. » 
rdiless the common course of our lives be 
according to the common spirit of our prayers, our 
_ prayers are so far from being a sufficient degree of 

. Hevotion, that they become an empty lip-labour: 

r, what is worse, a notorious hypecrisy. 

eeing therefore we are to make tae 
mper of cur prayers, the common spirit and 


» tha 


‘ ne holy and heayenl: 
i oe is they are all with the same carnestne 
ie. e Spirit of God; so is it a sufficien 
that all. ord 


proof, 
vat all of people are, to. the utmost of their 
power, to make their life agreeable to that one Spir- 
it, for which they all pray. ee, 

A soldier; or a tradesman, is not called to minister 
at the altar, or preach the gospel ; but every soldier 
or tradesman is as much obliged to be devout, 
ble, holy, and heavenly-minded in all the pa 

H 


& 


“ 


8b A SERIOUS CALL 


his common life, as a» clergyman is obliged to be 
zealous, faithful and laborious in all. parts of his 
profession. “pi ie 
13. All men therefore, as men, have one and 
same important business, to act up.to the excellé 
cy of their rational nature, and to make reason ant 
order the law of all their designs and actions. All 
Christians, as Christians, have one and the same 
calling, to live according to the ,excellency of the 
Christian spirit, gra to make the sublime precepts 
of the gospel, thé rule and measure of all. theintem- 
pers incommon life. The one thing needful to one,’ 
is the one thing needful to all. © _ 
The merchant is no longer to hoard up 
upon earth ; the soldier is no longer to fight! 
ry; the great scholar is no longer to pride | 
in the depths of science; but they must all, wi 
spirit, ‘count all things but loss, for the exce! 
of the knowledge of Christ Jesus?” 7 
The fine lady must teach her eyes to weep 
be clothed with humility... The polite gentle 
must exchange the gay thoughts of wit and fa’ 
for a broken and a contrite heart. "Bt 
quality must so far renounce the i 


birth, as to think himself miserable ti born 
again. Servants must consider their service as 
done unto God. Masters must consider their se 
yants as their brethren in Christ, that are t0 be 
treated as their fellow members of the mystical body 
of ,Christ. ae ag 
14. Young ladies must either devote themselves 
to piety, prayer, self-denial, and allygood works in 


a virgin state of life; or else marry to be holy, 
sober, and prudent in the care of a family, bringing 
up their children in piety, humility; and deyotion, 
and abounding in all other good works, to the -ut- 
most of their capacity. They have no choice of 
any thing else ; but must devote themselves to God 


> 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 87 


in one of these states. ‘They may choose a married 
or a single life; but it is not left to their choice, 


whether they will make either state, a state of heli- 


ness, humility, and all other duties of the Christian 


_ life. Itisno more left in their power, because they 


have fortunes, or are bora of rich parents, to divide 
themselves betwixt God and the world, or take such 
pleasures as their fortune will afford them, than to be 
sometimes chaste and modest, and sometimes not. 


: inte the nature and end of Christianity ; and 
en they will find, that whether married or unmar- 
d, they have but one business upon their hands ; 


ee 


to be Wise, and pious, and holy ; not in little modes 
‘and forms of worship, but in the whole turn of their 


minds, in the whole form of their behaviour, and in 


"the daily course of their common life. 


15, Young gentlemen must consider what our 


blessed Saviour said to the young gentleman in 


the gospel ; he bade “‘ him sell all he had and give 
to the poor.” ‘Now though this text does noteblige 
all people to sell all; yet it certainly obliges all 
kinds of people to employ all their estates in such 
wise and reasonable ways, as may shew all they 


“have is devoted to God: and that no part offit is 


kept from the poor, to be spent in needless, vain, and 
foolish expenses. 

“Ti therefore young gentlemen propose to them- 
selves a lifejof pleasure and indulgence: if they 
spend their estates in high living, in luxury and in- 
temperance, in state and equipage, in pleasures and 
diversions, imsports and gaming and such like wan- 
ton gratifications of their foclish passions, they have 
as much reason to look upon themselyes foe. 


gels, as to be disciples of Christ. 
%, 


: 


> 88 A SERIOUS €ALL 


Let them:be assured, that it is the one. only busi- 
ness ofa Christian gentleman, to distinguish himself 
by good works, to be eminent in the most sublime 
virtues of the gospel, to bear with the ignorance and” 
weakness of the vulgar, to be a friend and patren fo) 
all that dwell about him, to live in the utmost heights” - 
of wisdom and holiness, and shew'through the whole 
course of his life a true religious greatness of mind. 
‘They must aspire after such a gentility, as they 
might have learned from seeingthe=blessed.. Jesus, 
and shew no other spirit of a gentleman, but such 
as they might have got by living with the holy apos 
tles. They must.learn to loye’God with allithe 
heart, with all their soul, and with all their streng 
and their neighbour as themselves; and then 
have all the greatness and distinction that they 
have here, and are fit for eternal happine 
ven. . 
16. Thus, in all orders and conditions, either of 
raen or women, this is the one holiness, which is to 
be the common life of all Christians. 

The merchant is not to leaye devotion t6 the 
clergyman, nor the clergyman to leave Humility to 
the labourer. Women of fortuneare not to leave i 
to the poor of their sex, “to be discreet) chaste, 
keepers at home, to adorn themselves im m 
apparel, shame-facedness and sobriety ;”” not 
women leave it to the rich to attend at the} 
of God. Great men must be eminent for true pov- 
erty of spirit, and people of a low and afflicted state 
must greatly rejoice in God. 

Theman of strength and power, is to forgive and 
pray for his enemies, and the innocent sufferer that 
is chained in prison, must, with Paul and Silas, at 
midnight sing praises unto Gods For God is to be 
glorified,» holiness is to be practised, and the spirit 
of religion is to be the common spirit/of every 
Christian in every state and condition of life. 


od 


~ TOA HOLY LIFE. 89% 


~ For the Son of God did not come from above, to 
hae external form of worship tothe several ways 
of life that are in the world, and so to leave people 
jive as they did before, in such tempers and en- 
_joyments as the fashion and’spirit of the world ap- 
‘proves: but as he came down from heaven, alto-— 
gether divine and heavenly in his own nature ; so 
it was to call mankind to a divine and heavenly 


life ; to the st change of their whole nature : 
and temper ain of.the holy Spirit; 
wa om,. aad light, and love of God, 


| to the utmost of their power; 
of their passions ;.and to live in 
om and holiness, as ight fit them to en- 
o all eternity. wie . ; 
tever therefore is foolish, vain or aur 
in the life of a Christian, 3 issomething 
to be there. Butif any thing of this 
ugh the course of our whole life, if 
Yourselves in things that are either vain,» 
sensual, we renounce our profession. 
eas Jesus Christ was wisdom and 


s 


ee EK, = 


ey, who, to the utmost of their | power, 
, and holy, and heavenly life... “bs 
alone, is christianity; universal holin 
t of life, a heavenly wisdom inall our ac- 
S, not conforming to the spirit and temper of the 
A, but turning all worldly. Presents, into 
s of piety : and devotion. 
Ane if it be the happiness and glory of a 
ve in this spirit, full of these holy tem- 
pers every thing as unto God, itis as much 
the | and happiness of all men, and wo 
‘ ied er a or old, to live in the § piri 
And whoever can find any reasons, | 
cient bishop. “should be intent upon | 
H:2 i od 


—_— 


Se Wms r 
ee P r 


me himself. a Pe ie 
A Myon say that a bishop must be an eminent-ex-— 


-. Do but fancy what a spirit of piet 


~ the life of our Saviour and’ his apostles 
» qvould have him live above the world, sh 
“the instances of a heavenly life, and the: 


“est thing for a young clergyman to do? You: 


90 « SERIOUS “GALL 


turning allthis life into the highest exercises\of, pi- 
ety and «devotion, will find them so many reasons 
why he should to the utmost of his power, do the . 
$2 ; ay 


* 


a cme of Christian holiness, because of his high 


sacred calling, you say right. But if you say 
that it is more to his advantage ki th at ea 
. For-there is 


than it is yours, you greatly mistake 
nothing to make the highest de 
desirable to a bishop, but what x 
ly desirable to every young pe 
ily. ; igs ay 

For an exalted piety, and th 
every thing, is as much the glory 
‘one state of life as it is of another. « 


have in the best bishop in the world, hoy 
have him love God, how you would have 


found out that Spirit which you ought t 
spirit of your own life. er ta 
I desire every reader to dwell a while 
reflection, and perhaps he will find more convir 
from it than he imagines. Every one can te 
‘good and pious he would have some people 
‘every one knows how wise and reasonable ag 
itisin a bishop, to be entirely above the world, and 
be an eminent example of Christian perfection. AS 
soon as you think of a wise and ancient bishop, you 
fancy some exalted degree of piety, a living exam- 
ple of all those holy tempers which you find des- 
cribed in the gospel. P — 

19. Now if you ask yourself,:what isthe’ 


a 


“he forced to answer, that nothing can «be so: 


ps Se o 

10 AvHOLY Lire. 91 . 
and glorious for him, as tovbe like that excellent, 
holy -bishopte jap vc le. ate i N 
_ If you. goon, and ask whatis the happiest thing 
4 young gentleman or his sisters todo? The 2 
ver must be the same; that nothing can be so — ‘ 


happy or glorious for them, as to live in such habits | 
of piety, in such exercises of a divine life,as this ~~ 
good old bishop does. For every thing that is 
great and glorious in religion, isas much the true 
glory of every man or-woman, as itis the gloryof 
any bishop. If high degrees of divine love, if fer- 

: ti t charity, if spotless purity, if heavenly affec- ' 


ee ; “ a ‘ 


vied or unmarried, is she’that lives in the highest de- 4 
grees of Christian holiness, and all the exercises of | 


i 


‘a divine and heavenly life. : ni 
pry es z ‘aids 4 5 


'» CHAPTER IX.. 
ny ng how great devotion fills our lives with the 
atest peace and happiness that can be enjoyed 
this world.  ~ ; i 5 ae “i 
3 xegtey ae | BB Ng” oe : 7 
Yome people will perhaps object that this liy- 
"ine “unto God in all that.we.do, is too great a.re- 
straint upon human life; and that, by depriving | 
ourselves of so many innocent pleasures, we -shall 
“render our lives dull, uneasy and melancholy. _ 
It will produce just the contrary effect. 1 
‘of making our lives dull and melancholy, ; 


at 


, 


‘wil 


self happy, even in this life, than he tha 


92 A SERIOUS GALL 
render them full of content and strong satisfactions ; 


as by these rules we only change the childish “3 
factions of our vain and sickly passions for the 50- 


lid enjoyments, and real happiness of a sound mind. 
-. For as there is no true foundation for comfort in” 


life, but in the assurance that a Wise and good God 
governeth the world; so the more we find out God 
in every thing, the more we apply to him in every 
place, the more we look up to him in all our actions, 
the more we conform to his will, the more we act 
according to his. wisdom, aad imitate his Eran 
by so much the more do we enjoy Gana increase 
all that is happy and comfortable in human life. ~ 

And it is plain, he that is endeavouring to sub- 
due ali those passions of pride, envy and ambition, 
which religion opposes, is doing more i lca 

is contriy- 
ing means to indulge them. 

For these passions are the causes of all’ the dis- 
quiets of human life ; they are the dropsies and fe- 
vers of our minds, vexing them with false appetites, 
and restless cravings after such things as we do not 
wait, and spoiling our taste forthose things which 
are Our proper good. oat 

2. Do but imagine that you somewhere or other 
saw a man, that proposed reason as the rule of all 
his actions; that had no desires but after such 
things as nature wants, and religion approves; that 
was as pure from all the motions of pride, envy, and 
covetousness, as from thoughts of murder: that in 
this freedom from worldly passions, he had’a soul 
full of divine love, wishing and praying that all 
men may have what they want of worldly things, 
and be partakers of eternal glory. , 

Do but fancy a man livingin this manner, and 
your own conscience will immediately tell you, that 
he is the happiest man in the world, and that it is, 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 93, 


higher happine: ; 
And on the other hand, if you suppose him to be 
in any degree less perfect ; if you suppose him but 


, 

4 

not in the POE of the richest fancy to invent any, 5 
ness in the present life. : 

subject to one foolish fondness, or vain passion, % 
a 

| 


your own conscience will tell you, that he so far 
essens his own happiness, and robs himself of the 
true enjoyment of his other virtues. So true is it, 
that the more we live by the rules ef religion, the ~ 
more peaceful and happy we are. ma 

3. Again, as it thus appears that real happiness 
is only to be had from religion ; so the same truth 
will appear from a consideration of human misery. 
If we look into the world, BE view the troubles of 


human life, we shall find that they are all owing to 
our irreligious passions. : 
~ Now all trouble and uneasiness is founded in the 


pl a: 4 ; rie 
“want of something or other ; would we therefore 
know the true cause of our troubles and disquiets, 
we must find out the cause of our wants ; because 
that which creates and increases our wants does in 
the same degree. create and increase our troubles 
and disquicts. i, 4 
; God A mighty has sent us into the world with 
Yorn few wants ; meat, and drink, and cloth ing, are 
he only things necessary in life; and as these are 
only our present needs, so the present world is well 
furnished to supply these needs. 
_ Ifa man had half the world in his power, he can 
make no more of it than this; as be wants it only 
tos ipport an animal life, se is it unable todo any, 
thing else for him, or to afford him any other happi- 
ne = eee 
_4. This is the state of man, born with few wants, 
and into a large world, yery capable of supplying 
them. So- that one would reasonably suppese, 
men should pass their-lives in content and thank- 
fulness to God, at least, that they should 


: “5% 7 we 
is from violent disquiets and vexations, a8 being + 
Me 


_ eed in a world that has more than enough t 
all their wants. - i es : 
But if to all this we add, that this short life, thus 
furnished with all that we want in it, is only a short 
> pa ae to eternal glory, where we shall be clothed 
- with the brightness of angels, and enter into the 
4 - joys of God, we might still more reasonably expect 
_ that human life shor a state of peace, and joy, 
and delight in God. Thus it would certainly be, if 
_. Teason had its full power overus. = 
; But alas! though God and nature, and reason, 
_ make human life thus free from wants, yet our pas- 


sions, in rebellion against God, against and fl 


_ Teason, create a new world of evils, and fill hu- 
- mnan life with imaginary wants, and vain disquiets. 
The man of pride has a thousand wants which _ 

a only his own pride has created; and’ these render 

: him as full of trouble, as if God had created him 
_. with a thousand appetites, without creating any 
thing that was proper to satisfy them 4 
ambition have Sto their endless wants. 


quiet the souls of men and by their contradictory 
_ motions, render them as foolishly miserable, as 
_ those that want to fly and creep at the sam iY 
P Let but any complaining, disquieted man you 
> the ground of his uneasiness, and you will inly 


see that he is the author of his own torme 
is vexing himself at some imaginary eyil, 
cease to torment him as soon as heis co! 
‘that which God, and nature, and’ réas 
~ him to be. — ae 
a 5. If you should see a man pas 
be disquiet, because he could not walk upon wa- 
ter, or catch birds as they fly by him, you would. — 
readily confess that such an/one might ‘thank him- 
s _ self for such uneasiness. But now if you loo 


to the most tormenting disquiets of life, 


=: 2 a? L 
as . aon : y : ° ih. 


= 


- i* Ar 
yee ds ae s 
Seat aes . itn ams 
(insta ‘ sa. Le | ay ene, a 


find theres ‘absurd. People are only tor- © 
mented by their own folly, and vexing themselves 
at such things as no more concern them, nor are 
any more their proper good, than walking upon 
the water, or catching birds. ae 
What can you conceive more silly and extrava- 
gant, than a man racking his brains, and studying 
night and day how to fly? Wandering from his ows 
house and home, wearying himself with climbing 
upon every ascent, cringing and courting every’ — 
body he meets, to lift him up from the den P 
bruising himself with continual falls, and at last ~ | 
breaking his neck? And all this, from an imagina- 
tion that it would be glorious to have the eyes of 
people gazing up at him, and mighty happy to 
eat, and drink, and sleep, at the top of the highest 
trees in the country.. Would you not readily own, 
‘that such a one was only disquieted at his own folly? 
If you ask, what it signifies to suppose such silly 
creatures as. are no where to be found in human 
life? 8 ye price 
_/ It may be answered, that. wherever youseean 
ambitious man, there you see this vain and sense- | 
less flyer. . —. | 
6. Again, if youshould see a man that had a 
large pond of water, yet living in continual thirst, 
not suffering himself to drink half a draught, for 
fear of lessening his pond; if you should see him 
wasting his time and strength, in fetching more wa- 
ter to. his pond, always thirsty, yet always carryin 
a bucket of water in his hand, watching early a 
late to catch the drops of rain, gaping after every 
id running greedily into every mire and 


us spit 


cloud, anc 
mud, in hopes of water, and always studying how 
to make every ditch empty itself into his pond.— 
If you should see him grow grey and old in these 
anxious labours, and at last end a careful thirsty 
life by falling into his own pond; would you not ‘ 


' enitt Meat bee 
me a . 4 


. -, nies 
+) is ee 
| 96 ai A a 
say, that such a one was ‘not only the aiithor of all 
. i his own disquiets, but va focta ae rh to be 
reckoned amongst’ idiots and madmen but yet 
~ . ~ foolish and’ absurd as this character is, it does not 
5 iy eo half the follies, and absurd disquiets of 
3 Peper tots man. Fi ties oe 
: -  Tcould now easily proceed to shew the same ef- 
__ fects of all our other passions, and make’ it plainly 
appear, that all series, vexations, and com- 
_ plaints, are’ entirely of our own making, and that 
- in the same absurd manner; as in these instances 
of the covetous and ambitious man. Look’ where 
- you will, you will’ see all worldly vexations, but 
like the vexation: of him that was" always in’ mire 
and mud in search of water to‘drink, when he had 
more at home than was sufficient’ for an huadred 
horses. Sanh Hay MRS + 
| -%. Celia is always telling you how provoked she 
: is, what intolerable shocking things happen to her, 


—. 


é what monstrous usage she suffers, and vexa- 
" tions she meets with every where. | s you 
; that her patience is quite worn out, and that there 

is no bearing the behaviour'of people. \ Every as- 
sembly thateshe is at, sends her home provoked ; 
“ something or other has been said, or done, that no 
_ reasonable, well bred person ought to bear. Poor 


“! pone that want her charity, are sent a Abeba 
hasty answers ; not because she has not a heart to 
part with any money, but because she is too full 
| of some trouble of her own to attend to the com- 
b plaints of others. Celia has nt siness upon 
her hands, but to receive the income of a plentiful 
fortune ; but yet by the ful turn, of © er mind, 
you would be’apt to think that she had neither food 
» nor lodging. If you see her look more ‘pale than 
ordinary, if her lips tremblewhen she speaks’ to 

~ you, itis because’ she has just come from a visit, 
where Lupus took no notice ‘at all of her, but tall 


‘ie 7 

i bs 
2) " 4 &, = 
‘ /_ ee, 


- 


TO A HOLY LIFE. SF os 


ed all the timeto Lucinda, who has not half her 
fortune. When cross accidents have so disordered 
her spirits, that she is forced to send for the doctor 
to make her able to eat; she tells him, in great 
anger at Providence, that she never was well since 
she was born, and that she envies every beggar 
that she sees in health. aoe 

This is the unquiet life of Celia, who has noth- 
ing to torment her but her — 

If you could inspire her with Christian humility, 
you need do no more to make her happy. -~ This” 
virtue would make her thankful to God for half so 
much health as she has had, and help her to enjoy 
more for the time to come. This would keep off 
tremblings and loss of appetitey and her blood 
would need nothing else to sweeten it. 

8. I have just touched upon these absurd char- 
acters, to convince you in the plainest manner, 
that religion is so far from rendering a life dull, 
anxious and uncomfortable, that on the contrary, 3 
all the miseries, vexations, and complaints that 
are in the world, are owing to the want of reli- 
gion; being directly caused by those absurd pas- 
sions, which religion teaches us to deny. =) 

9. Most people indeed confess, that religion 
preserves us from many evils, and belie us in ma- 
ny respects to a more happy enjoyment of ou 
selves ; but then, they imagine, this is only tn 
such a moderate share of religion, as rest 
from the excesses of our passions. They supp 
that the strict rules of piety must make our 
dull and uncomfo . 


rtable. ree A J 
‘Ehis objection supposes, that religion, moderate- 

ly practised, adds to our happiness; but that 

heights of religion have a contrary effect. _ 

It supposes therefore, that it is happy to be kept 
from the excesses of envy, but unhappy to beet 
from other degrees of envy ; that it is happy to be 

; I 


hy GS 


. , ae 
93) A SERIOUS, CALL 7 


delivered from a boundless ambition, but unhappy 
to be without a moderate ambition. It supposes 
also, that the happiness of life consists in a mixture 
of virtue and vice, of ambition and humility, chari- 
ty and enyy, heavenly affection and covetousness. 
All which is as absurd, as to suppose that it is hap- 
py to be free from excessive pains, but unhappy 


i to be without moderate pains; or that the happi- 

AS ness of health congiateth in being partly sick, and 

fs partly well. — aes Pras 

{i But if humility be the peace and rest of the soul, 

3 then no one has so much happiness from humility, 
as he that is the most humble. If excessive envy 
is a torment of the soul, he is most happy who extin- 

a guishes every spark, of envy. 


Thus it is in every virtue; the more you act up 
_to every degree of it, the more happiness you have 
from it. And so of every vice: if you only abate 

its excesses, you do but little for yourself; but if 
you reject it in all degrees, then you feel the true 
ease of areformed mind. __ 5: Aa 

10. Andas to those enjoyments which piety re- 

quireth us to deny ourselves, this deprives us of no 
realcomfort. ‘ike ae ail “ 

For Ist, Piety requires us to renounce no ways 
; of life, where we can act reasonably, and offer what 
_ we do to God. All ways of life, all enjoyments 

thatare within these bounds, are no way denied us 
the strictest rules of piety. Whatever you can 
), orenjoy, as in the presence : \d, as his ser- 


a 


a iene Ne “a 4 Eee, ; 
ee | 5 ba CS ee = ah: Ld 


ry 
ry ° s 
ee TO A HOLY LIFE. 99 


, ’ 
folly and corruption of the world, which inflame ; 
our passions, and sink our souls into grossness and " 
sensuality, and render us incapable of the divine ; 
favour either here or hereafter; surely it can be no 


uncomfortable thing to be rescued by religion from 

such self-murder, and to be rendered capable of 

eternal happiness. ue 
11. Let us suppose a person placed somewhere = 


alone in the midst of a varia! things which he 
did not know how to use; that he has by him bread, 
wine, water, golden dust, iron, chains, gravel, gar- 
ments, fire. Let it be supposed, that he has no 
knowledge, nor any directions from his senses, how 
to quench his thirst, or satisfy his hunger, or make 
any use of the things about him.» Let it be suppo- 
sed, that in his draught he puts golden dust into his 
eyes; when his eyes smart, he puts wine into his 
ears; that in his hunger, he puts gravel in his 
mouth; that in pain, he loads himself with iron 
chains ; that feeling cold, he puts his feet in the 
water; that being friglitted at the fire, he runs away 
from it: that being Beart he makes/a seat. of his 
bread. Let it be supposed, that aet his ignor- 
ance of the right use of the things that are about 
him, he will vainly torment himself whilst he lives ; 
and at last die blinded with dust, ehoaked with 
gravel, and loaded with irons. Let it be supposed, 
that some good being came to him, and shewed him 
the nature and use of all the things that were about 
him, and gaye him such strict rules of using them, © 
as would certainly, if observed, make him the hap= 
pier for all that he had, and deliver him from the 
pains of hunger, and thirst, and cold. 

Now, could you with any reason affirm, that those 
strict rules of using those things that were about 
him, had rendered that poor man’s life dull and un- 
comfortable ? 

12, This is, insome measure, a representation of 


ttl 


Po ee 


ae. 


100 A SERIOUS CALE 


the strict rules of religion; they only relieve our 
ignorance, save us from tormenting ourselves, and 
teach us to use every thing about us to our advan- 
tage. ey. t 

Man is placed in a world full of variet y of things; 
his ignorance makes him use many of them:as ab- 
surdly as the man that put dust in his eyes to relieve 
his thirst, or put on chains to remove pain. 

Religion therefore here comes in to his relief, and 

ives him strict rules of using every thing that is 
about him: that by so using them suitably to his 
own nature and the nature of the things, he may 
have always the pleasure of receiving benefit from 
them. It shews him what is strictly right in meat, 
and drink, and clothes ; and that he has nothing 
else to expect from the things of this world, but to 
satisfy such wants of his own ; and then to extend 
his assistance to all his brethren, that, as far as he is 
able, he may help all his fellow-creatures to the same 
benefit from the world that he hath. 

It tells him that this world is incapable of giving 
him any other happiness; and that all endeavours 
to be happy in heaps of money, or acres of land, in 
fine clothes, rich beds, stately equipage, and.shew 
and splendour, are only vain endeavours, ignorant 
attempts after,impossibilities ; these things being no 
more able tdieive the least degree of happiness, 
than dust in the eyes can cure thirst, or gravel in 
the*mouth satisfy hunger; but, like dust and gravel 


«| 


misapplied, will only serve to render him more un- 
id y 


py by such an ignorant misuse of them. 
It tells him, although this world camede no more. 
for him than satisfy these iets of the. body, yet — 


there is a much greater good prepared for man, than 


eating, drinking, and dressing; that it is yet invisi- 


ble to his eyes, being too glorious for the appre- 
hension of flesh and blood; but.reserved for him to 


i a i 


enter upon, as soon as this short life is over; where, _ 


70 A HOLY LIFE. 101 


in a new body, formed to an angelic likeness, he 
shall dwell in the light and glory of God to all 
eternity. 

It tells him, that this state of glory will be given 
to all those that make a right use of the things of 
this present world; who do not blind themselves 
with golden dust, or eat gravel, or groan under loads 
of iron of their own putting on; but use bread, wa- 
ter, wine, and garments, for such ends as are ac- 
cording to nature and reason ; ‘and who with faith 
and thankfulness, worship the kind Giver of all 
that they enjoy here, and hope for hereafter. 

14. Now can any one say that the strictest rules 
of such a religion as this, debar us of any of the 
comforts of life? Might it not as justly be said of 
those rules, that only hindered a man from choak- 
ing himself with gravel? ‘For the strictness of these 
rules only consists in the exactness of their recti- 
tude. ; ; 

Who would complain of the severe strictness of 
a law, that without any exception forbad the putting 
of dust into our eyes! Who could think it too rigid, 
that there were no abatements? Now this is the 
strictness of religion; it requires nothing of us 
strictly, or without abatements, but where every de- 
gree of the thing is wrong, where every indulgence 
does us hurt. oh Aaa 

if religion forbids all instances of revenge with- 
out any exception, it is because all revenge is off 


the nature of poison; and though we do not take 
so much as to put an end to life, yet if we take any 


at all, it corrupts the mass of blood, and makes it 


difficult to be restored to our former health. Om 


If religion commands an universal charity, to’ 
love our neighbour as ourselves, to forgive and 
pray for all our enemies without any reserve; it is 
because all degrees of love are degrees of happi- 
ness, that strengthen and support the divine life of 
pags 2. 


.,. 
3 


pe as 


ig 


yt 


; 


: we 
SS rae Sn 


— 


bs 
102 A SERIOUS CALE: 


the soul, and are as necessary to its health and hap- 
piness, as proper food is necessary to the health 
and happiness of the body. ee 

If religion has laws against laying up treasures 
upon earth, and commands us to be content with 
food and raiment ; it is because every other use of 
the world is abusing it to our own vexation, and 
turning its conveniencies into snares and traps to 
destroy us. It isgyppauee this plainness and sim- 
plicity of life, secure us from the cares and -pains 
ofrestless pride and envy, and make it easier to 
4 that strait road, that will carry us to eternal 

ife. : 

15. If religion requires us sometimes to fast and 
deny our natural appetites, it isto lessen that strug- 
gle and war that is in our nature; it is to render 
our bodies fitter instruments of purity, and more 
obedient to the good motions of divine grace ; it is 
to dry up the springs of our passions that war 
against the soul, to cool the flame of our blood, and 
render the mind more capable of divine meditations. 
So that although these abstinences give some pain 
to the body, yet they so lessen the power of bodily 
appetites and passions, and so increase our taste of 
spiritual joys, that even these severities of religion, 
when practised with discretion, add much to the 
comfort of our lives. 

If religion calleth us to a life of watching and 
prfyer, it is because we live amongst a crowd of 
enemies, and are always in need of the assistance 
of God. lf we are to confess and bewail our sins, 
it is because such confessions relieve the mind, and 
restore it to ease; as burdens and weights taken 
off the shoulders, relieve the body, and make it 
easier to itself. If we are to be frequent and fer-. 
vent in holy petitions, it is to keep us steady in the 
sight of our true good, and that-we may never want 
the happiness of a lively faith, a joyful hope, and 


iS. 


2¥ 


ws 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 103 


a well grounded trust in God. If we are to pray 
often, itis that we may be often happy in such se- 
cret joys as only prayer can give ; in such commu- 
nications of the divine presence, as will fill our 
minds with all the happiness that beings not in hea- 
ven are capable of. __ 

If religion commands us to live wholly unto God, 
and to do all to his glory, it is because every other 
way is living wholly against ourselves, and wil 
end in our shame and confusion of face. 

16. Aseyery thing is dark, that God does not en- 
lighten; as every thing is senseless, that has not 
ils share of knowledge from him; as nothing lives, 
but by partaking of life from him; as nothing ex- 
ists, but because he commands it to be; so there 
is no glory or greatness, but what is the glory or 
greatness of God. 

We indeed may talk of human glory, as we may 
talk of human life or human knowledge ;_but as we 
are sure that human life implies nothing of our own 
but a dependent living in God, or enjoying so much 
life in God; so human glory, whenever we find it, 
must he only so much glory as we enjoy in the glo- 
ry of God. a 

This is the state of all creatures, whether men, 
er angels; as they make not themselves, so if they 
are great, they are only great receivers of the gifts 
of God; their power can only be so much of the 
divine power acting in them; their wisdom can be 


only so much of the divine wisdom shining within 


them; and their light and glory, only so much of 
the light and glory of God shining upen them. 

17. As they are not men and angels, because 
they had a mind to be so, but because the will of 
God formed them to be what they are ; so they can- 
not enjoy this or that happiness of men or angels, 
because they have a mind to it, but because it is 


the will of God, that such things be the happiness 


it ta 


és 


eo 


; 
¥ 


‘ 


a 


: 


‘ 


Pst 


104 A SERIOUS CALL 
of men, and such things the happiness of angels. 


' But now, if God be thus all in all: if his wall is 


nothing can be done, but by his power; -if nothing 
can be seen, but by a light from him; if we have 
nothing to fear, but from his justice; if we have 
nothing to hope for, but from his goodness; if this 
is the nature of man, thus helpless in himself; if 
this is the state of all creatures, as well those in 
heaven, as. those on earth: if they are nothing, 
can do nothing, can suffer no pain, nor* feel: any 
happiness, but so far, and in such degrees, as the 
power of God does all this: if this be the state of 
things, then how can we have the least glimpse ‘of 
joy or comfort ? How can we have any peaceful en- 
joyment of ourselves; but by living wholly unto 


thus the measure of all ‘i and all natures ; if 


God, using and doing every thing conformably to. 


_ his: will? A life thus devoted unto God, looking 


et 
se 
R 


a 
ay 


Si, 


wholly unto him in all our actions, and: doing all 
things suitable to his glory, isso far from being 
dull, and uncomfortable, that it creates new com~ 
forts in every thing that we do. 

18. On the contrary, would you see how happy’ 
they are, who live according to their own wills, 
who cannot submit to the dull and melancholy bu- 
siness of a life devoted to God? Look at the man 
in the parable, to whom his Lord had given one 
talent. 

He could not bear the thoughts of using his talent 
according to the will of him from whom he had it, 
and therefore he choose to make himself happier - 
in another way of his own. ‘ Lord,” says he,’ 
«1 knew thee, that thou artan hard man, reaping 
where thou hadst not sown, and gathering where 
thou hadst not strewed. And I was afraid, and went 
and hidthy talent in the earth. Lo, thigestion 
hast that is thine.”? Matt. xxv. 24, 0 


. 


& 
TO A HOLY LIFE. 105 


Here you see how happy this man made himself 
by not acting wholly according to his Lord’s will. 
It was according to his own account, a happiness 
of murmuring and discontent; I knew thee, says 
he, that thou wast an hard man: It was an hap- 
piness of fears and apprehensions ; I was, says he, 
afraid: It was ap happiness of vain Jabowfs and 
fruitless travails: 1 went, says be, and hid thy tal- 
ent; and after having been a while the sport of 
foolish passions, tormenting fears, and fruitless la- 
labours, he is rewarded with eternal darkness, 
weeping, and gnashing of teeth. 

19. Now this is the happiness of al] those,who 
look upon strict piéty, that is, a right use of their 

» talent, to be a dull and melancholy thing. 

They may live a while free from the restraints 
and directions of religion; but instead thereof, they 
must be under the absurd government of their pas- 
sions ; they must, like the man in the parable, live 
in murmurings and discontents, in fears and appre- 
hensions.» They may avoid the labour of doing 
good, of spending their time devoutly, of laying up 
treasures in heaven, of clothing the naked, of visit- 
ing the sick; but then they must, like this man, 
have labours and pains in vain, that tend to no use 
or adyantage, that do no good eitherto themselves 
or others ; they must travel, and labour, and work, 
and dig, to hide their talent in the earth. They 
must, like him, at their Lord’s coming, be convict- 
ed out of their own mouths, be accused by their 
own hearts, and have every thing that they have 
said and thought of religion, be made to shew the 
justice of their condemnation to eternal darkness, 
weeping, and gnashing of teeth. : aie 

This is the purchase that they make, who avoid 
the strictness of religion, in order to live happily. — 

_ 20. On the other hand, would you see a short de- 


wee 


~ 


4 4 


~~ = 


106 A SERIOUS CALL 


ae 

scription of the happiness of a life rightly | 
ed, wholly devoted to God, you must look at | 
man in the parable, to whom his Lord had given 
five talents. “Lord,” says he, “thou deliveredst 
unto me five talents: behold I haye gained besides 
them five talents more.”? His Lord said unto him, 
* well™done, thou good and faithful servant: thou 
hast been faithful over a few thi sy 1 will make 
thee ruler over many things ; eritae thou into the 
joy of thy Lord.?? Be ch 

Here you see a life that is wholly intent upon the 
improvement of the talents, that is devoted wholly 
unto: God, is a state of happiness, prosperous la- 
bours, and glorious success. Here are not, as in 
the former case, any uneasy pai sions, murmurings, 


vain fears, and fruitless labours. ‘The man is not 


Shah 


toiling, and digging in the earth for no end or ad- 
vantage; but his labours prosper in his hands, 


his happiness increases upon him, the blessing of 
five becomes the blessing of ten talents; and he 
is received with a “‘ well done good and faithful 
servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.” 
21. Now, as the case of these men in the parable 


left nothing else to their choice, but either: to be 
happy in using their gifts to the glory of their Lord, 
or miserable by using them according to their own 
_ humours and fancies; so the state of Christianity 
leaves us no other choice. Fe xy 

All that we have, all that we are, all that we en- 
joy, are only so many talents from God: if we use 
them te the end of a pious and holy life, our five 
talents will become ten, and our labours will carry 
us into the joy of our Lord; butif we abuse them 
to the gratification of our own passions, sacrificing 
the gifts of God to our own pride and vanity, we shall 
live here in vain labours and foolish 


| shunning religion as a melancholy thing acc 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 107 


our Lord as a hard master, and then fall into ever- 
lasting misery. 


We may fora while amuse ourselves with names, 


and sounds, and shadows of happiness, we may talk 
of this or that greatness and dignity ; but if we de- 
sire real happiness, we have no other possible way 
to it, but by improving our talents by so holily and 
piously using the powers and faculties of men in 
this present state, that we may be happy and glori- 
ous in the powers and faculties of angels in the 
world to come. 

How ignorant therefore are they of the nature of 
religion, of the nature of man, and the nature of 
God, who think a life of strict piety to be a dull 
and uncomfortable state; when it is so plain and 
certain, that there is neither comfort nor joy to be 
found in any thing else? 


CHAPTER X. 


The happiness of a life wholly devoted unto God, far- 
ther proved, from the vanity, and the ridiculous, 
poor enjoyments which they are forced to take up 
with, who live according to their own humours. 
This represented in various characters. 


es m 


Po ee 


— 


4, 


we 


Page 108 A SERIOUS CALL 


reason to Fejoice, that Ged hath appointed a narrow 
_way that leadeth unto life, and that we are not left 
to the folly of our own m or forced to take up 
with’such shadows of ha ss, as the folly of the 
world has invented. I say invented, because those 
things which make up the joy and happiness of the 
world, are mere inventions, which have no founda- 
tion in nature, are no way the proper good or hap- 
__ piness of man, no way perfect echeas body or his 
> mind. 
| 2. As, for instance, when a man proposes to be 
happy in ways of ambition, by raising himself to 
some imaginary heights above other people. This 
is an invention of happiness which has no founda- 
tion in nature, butis as m@ . cheat of our own 
__ making, as if a man should to make his 


»__ happy by climbing up a ladder. J 
Ifa woman seeks for happiness from fine colours 
or spots upon her face, from jewels and rich clothes, 
this is as merely an invention of happiness, as con- 
trary to nature and reason, as if she should propose 
_ to make herselfhappy by painting a post, and put- 
- ting the same finery upon it. It is in this respect 
that I call these mere inventions of happiness, be- 
cause neither God nor nature, nor reason, hath ap- 
pointed them as such; but whatever appears joyful 
: or happy in them, is entirely invented by the blind- 
ness and vanity of our own minds. Ca 
And it is on these inventions of happiness, that I 
_. desire you to cast your eye, that you may thence 
learn how great a good religion is, which delivers 
- you from such a multitude of follies and vain pur- 
suits, as are the torment of minds that wander from 
their true happiness in God. 1 
1 3. Look at Flatus, and learn how miser. 
‘are, who are left to the folly of their own p 
Flatus is rich and in health, yet alwa 
and always searching after happiness. 


a : 
- s . 
itp, ~~ 


EM 


¥ 
ai ye ee 


you visit him, you find some new project in his 
head; he iseager epee it as something that is more 
worth his while, and will do more for him than any 
thing that is ateady ee Every new thing so 
seizes him, that if you were to 
would think himself quite undone. His sanguine 
temper, and strong passions, promise him so much 
happiness, in every thing, that he is always cheat- 
ed, and is satisfied with nothing. ay 
At his first setting out in life, fine clothes were 
his delight. His enquiry was only after the best 
taylors and peruke-makers ; and he had no thoughts 
of excelling in any thing but dress: he spared no 
expense, but carried every nicety to its greatest 
height. But this happiness not answering his ex- 
pectations, he lef of bis brocades, put on a plain 
ee iled at fops, 


beaux, and gave himself up 
to gaming with great eagerness. 


‘his new pleasure:satisfied him for some time ; 
he envied no other way. of life. But being by the 
fate of play drawn into a duel, where he narrowly 


escaped his death, he left off the dice, and sought . 


for happiness no longer amongst the gamesters. ~ 

4, The next thing that seized his wandering im- 
agination, was the diversions of the town; and for 
more than a twelvemonth, you heard him talk of 
nothing, but ladies, drawing-rooms, birth-nights, 
plays, balls, and assemblies ; but growing sick of 
these, he had recourse to hard drinking. He had 
now many a out night, and met with stronger joys 
than any he ha 


farther ; but unluckily falling into a fever, he grew 
angry at all strong liquors, and took his leave of ie 
happiness of being drunk. ae 
The next attempt after happiness carried bit 
into the field.. For two or three years nothin 
was so happy asthunting. He entered uponit with 
2 K = 


- s 4 
i 


- oa ™ ee ¢ 
walle LIFE. 109% 9 


take him from it, he. 


felt before, And here he had | 
thoughts of setting F his staff, and looking out no © 


até 


oe 
110 A SERIOUS CALL 


all his soul, and leaped over more hedges and ditch- 
es than had ever been known in so short a time. 
You never saw him but in a green coat. He was 
the "envy of all that bw the horn, and. always 
spoke to his dogs in great ty ee of lang age. 
If you met him at home ina bad day, you ould 
hear him blow his horn and be entertained with the 
surprising accidents of the last noble chase. No 


sooner had Flatus outdone all the w jeavta Regret 
and education of his. dogs, built new 


stables, and bought a new hunting seat, b “ee 

sight of another happiness, hated the, senscless 
noise and hurry.of hunting, gave away his d dogs, 
and was for some time after on deep in the ae of 


building. — ic 
5. Now he invents new kinds of dove-cotes, and 
has such contrivances in his barns and eS, as 


were never seen before. He wonders 
ness of oh builders, i is who’ pe ts 
provement of ale chitecture, ani wi a. 
a door in the ordinary way. He te 
that he never was so delighted in ai y_ thing in his 
life ; that he has more happiness amongst his s s br 
and mortar, than ever he had at court : : and that h 
is contriving how to have some pas matter 
4 that way as long as he lives. 
z . After this, he was a great studer eee fy ) 
year. He was up early and late at 
mar, that he might have the eee 
standing the opera, a at ot to be Mil ) 
sonable people, that < 
_ know what. 2 
Flatus is very ill-natz 
his affairs happen to 
you find him when some p 
“you will find a peevish, il 
had seen him just oe 4 


e 
TO A HOLY LIFE. 111 


gimen, or begun to excel in sounding the horn, you 
had been saluted with-great civility. 

Flatus is now at a. full stand, and is doing what 
he never did in his life before. He is reasoning 
and reflecting with himself. He loses several days, 
in considering which of his cast off ways of life he 
should try again. 2 

But here a new project comes in to his relief.— 
He is now living upon herbs, and running about 
the country, to get himself in as good wind as any 
running footman in the kingdom. 

6. I have been thus circumstantial in so many 
foolish particulars, because I hope that every par- 
ticular folly that you here see, will naturally turn it- 
self into an argon for the wisdom and happiness 
of arcligious life. ¢ 
I could lay before you a particular account of 
he circumstances of terror and distress, that 
daily attend a life at sea, the more particular | was 
an the account, the more J should make you feel and 
rejoice in the happiness of living upon the land. 

In like manner, the more I enumerate the follies, 
anxieties, delusions, and restless desires which go 
through every part of a life devoted to worldly en- 
joyments, the more you must be affected with that 
peace, and rest, and solid content, which religion 
gives to the souls of men. sna a 

7. But you will perhaps say, that the ridiculous 
restless life of Flatus, is not the common state of 
those who neglect the strict rules of religion; and 
at therefore it is not so gteat an argument of the 

ppiness ofa religious life. oe 
wer that ] am afraid it is oae of the most gen- 


fOut seeing something in it that belongs 
. For where shall we find that swise 
PPY map, who has not been eagerly pursu- 


7 © 


acters in life; and that few people can 


a 
. 
, 


"4 
i, 
Mi) 
“ 


"ness, as are to be seenin the life of Flatus. 


ee 

112 A SERIOUS CALL 4 

ing different appearances of happiness, so 

thinking it was here, and sometimes there? 
And if people were to divide their lives in 

Liggett stages, and ask themselves what t er 

/pursuing, or what it was which they had chiefly in 


‘view when they were twenty’ years old, what at 


twenty-five, what at thirty, what at forty, what at 


‘fifty, and:so on, till they were brought to their last 


bed: numbers of people would find, that they had 
pursued as many different appearances of happi- 


- Free 


And thus it must be, more or less, with all who 
propose any other happiness, than that which aris- 
es from a strict and regular piety.) ) 

. 8. But secondly, let it be granted, that the gene- 
tality of people are not of suchwrestless, fickle tem- 
pers as Flatus 5 the difference is only this, Flatus is 
continually changing and trying something new, 
but others are content with some one state; they 
do not leave gaming, and then fall to hunting, but 
follow one or the otber all their life. Some have 
so much steadiness in their tempers, that they seek 
after no other happiness, but that; of heaping up 
riches; others grow old in the sports of the field’; 
others are content to drink themselves to death, 
without the least enquiry after any other happi- 
ness. eae Vinee 

‘Now is there any thing more happy or reasona- 
ble in such a life as this, than in the life of Flatus ? 
fs it not as wise and happy, to be constantly chang- 
ing from one thing to another, as to be nothing 
else but a gatherer of money, a hunter, a gamester, 
ora drunkard all your life? 

Shall religion be looked upon as a burden, as a- 
dull and melancholy state for calling mea from 
such happiness as this, to labour after ‘the perfec- 
‘uon of their nature, and prepare, themselves. for 

‘s rs 


Nad 


 — 


Fi * 
- bay 


a 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 113 


& a 
an endless state of joy and glory in the presence 
of our God ? 

9. But turn your eyes now/another way, and let 
the trifling joys, the gevgaw happiness of Felicia- 
na, teach you how wise they are, what delusion 
they escape whose hearts and hopes are fixed upon 
happiness in God? meet 

If you was to live with Feliciana, but one half 
year, you would see all the happiness that she is 
to have as long as she lives. She has no more to 


K 


re 


come, but the poor repetition of that which could” 


never have pleased once bui through a littleness of 4 


mind, and want of thought. 

She is to be again dressed fine, and keep her 
visiting day. She is again to change the colour of 
her clothes, ‘again to have a new head. She is 
again to see who acts best at the play-house, and 
who sings finest at the opera. She is again to make 
ten visits in a day, and be ten times ina day trying 
to talk artfully, easily, and politely about nothing. 

She'is to be again delighted with some new fash- 
ion, and again angry at the change of some.old one. 
She is to be againat cards, and gaming at midnight, 
and again in bed at noon. She is to be again 
pleased with hypocritical compliments, and again 
disturbed with imaginary affronts. She is to be 
again delighted with her good luck at gaming, and 
again tormented with the loss of hermoney. She is 
again to prepare herself for a birth-night, and again 
to see the town full of good company. She is 
again to hear the cabals and intrigues of the town, 
again to have secret intelligence of private amours, _ 
and early notice of marriages, quarrels, and part-_ 

hey : + 


fi 


briskly than usual, converse.with more spirit, and 


y than she was last week, it is be- 
K 2 


2 
e 
# 
F 


ie ae? Tie ee | # £ Ny 


A. SERIOUS CALL. * 


ise there i is some surprising. new os or 
diversion just come to town. % 
Sine hese are all the aobggantal and r 
parts of Feliciana’s happiness; and she 
ne W., a pleasant day in her life, but it was owing 
6 fo! me one or more of these things. bei? 6-38 
Ne It is for this happiness, that she has always been” 
i to the reasonings of religion, that her heart 
been too gay and chesenaitn consider what is 
right or wrong in regard to-eternity ; or to listen 
the sound of such dull 1 words, as wisdom, piety; 
‘devotion. = 24 ted hegre eeahieier 
is for fear of losing some of. pba eo oumaig’ 
1e dares not meditate on the immorte 
oul, consider Mer relation to God, or turn - 
hts ‘towards those joys, which song are 
va ngels infinitely happy in the presence and glo- 
ee ofGod. | cles be 
q , But let it be observed, Abntiag pose a round of 
. happiness as this, appea most women that 
avoid the restraints o! ‘re zion fora gay life, must Ps 
be content with very. small parts of it. As they 
have not Feliciana’s fortune, sotht ng ae 
away the comforts of a’pious life, fo ra veny 
part of her happiness. . i. /iet Gap SE eens 
11. And if you loek into the we d observ 
the lives of those women, whom.no’; rguments can 
4 persuade to live wholly unto God, you will find 
most of them such, as lose all the com D 
€ gion without gaining the tenth part of 
a hap ness. ‘l'hey are such as sp e 
Ss, only in mimicking the 
and rather look and long 
isions, which - not to be 


by co iderable lera rable fortunes. 
te re eal eet ine Cuma 
aving read the, gospel, Id rather wish to be an’ 
under servant in some pious family, where wisdom, ‘ 
Z Noa | 
Reis ete 


- ifshe had rather wished to be poor La 


7 


> 


by J 
a 
“- 


“TO A HOLY LIFE. 

* ~ g 
piety, and great devotion directed all the actions of 
every day, if she should sae wish this, than to” 
live at the top of Feliciana 


she judged as rightly of the spirit of the gos re 


gate, than to be the rich man “clothed in purple 
and fine linen, and faring sumptuously every day.” F 

But to proceed: Would you know what an hap- : 
piness it is, to be governed by the wisdom of reli- 
gion; look at the poor condition of Suecus, whose zs 
greatest happiness is a good night’s rest in bed, and 
a good meal when he is'up. When he talks of hap- © 
piness, it is always in such we oe as shew 
ran, that he has only his bed and his dinner in his 
thoughts. ©" © 88 ' ae 

This regard to his meals and repose, makes Suc- 
cus order all the rest of his time with relation to 
them. He will undertake no business that may 
hurry his spirits, or break in upon his hours of eat- 
ing and rest. If he reads, it shall be only for half 
an hour, because that is sufficient to amuse the spir- 
its ; and he will read something that may make him 
Jaugh, as rendering the body fitter for its food and 
rest; or, if he hasa mind at any time to indulge a 
grave thought, he has recourse to a useful treatise 
pe the ancient cookery. Succus isan enemy to 
all party matters, having made it an observation, 
that there is as good eating amongst the whigs as 
the tories. . . 

He talks coolly and moderately upon all subjects, = 

is as) feapful of falling into a passions as of.» 


c being very positive they are both 
equally injurious to the stomach. If ever you see 
him more hot than ordinary, itis uponsome provok- 
ing occasion, when the dispute about Sy EL ond e: 


_ high, or in the defence of some belorsd a h, which 


has often made him happy. But he has been so 


. - ates : 


A SERIOUS, Sar 


ong upon these subjects, i is so well aequ 
that can be said on both sic 
ansivered all objections, th 
‘with great gravit) 
is very loyal, and as soon’ as ever he 
wine, he drinks the king’s health with’all - 
is he Nothing could put rebellious ‘thoughts ® 
ito his head, unless he should | live to see a procla- 
ation against eating of pheasant’s eggs.) 
ae 13. All the hours that are not devoted either to 
_ repose or nourishment, are looked upon! by Suc- 
"cus ‘as waste or spare time: For this reason he 
_. © lodges neara coffee-house ‘anda tavern,'that » oli 
\ he rises i in the morning he may be near the’ne 
Pe and? when he pants at nighthe may tot have fa 6 
F ‘be _the’morning ih i in 
ine plea itie coftee- 
more a 


- ie r) : 
| ‘Wel beye . as learnt all that he can, he « 
goes home to settle the matter with th ) 
boy that comes to shave him. ~ 
re. The next waste time that lays upon’ his ‘he 
aE ‘from'dinner to supper; and if melancholy 3. 
©. ever come into his head, it is at this time, when he 
“Ge often left to himself for an-hour or more; end tht 
on after the greatest pleasure he knows is ju 
He is afraid to sleep, because he has 
es healthful at that. time ;180° ‘that he has 
on fuse 50 welcome a guest.” 4B. Cipt 
But here he is soon relieved | 
ai aying’at cards, till it is tim 
little nice matter. ee supper. _ 
After this Succus takes his glass, talks 
‘cellency of the na oo, dare re 
that minister the most, who keeps the best 


77 


Li. 


"TO A HOLY LIFE. 


On a Sunday night you may sometimes hear him 
ee a Oa ig qs gee 
condemning the iniquity of town rakes; an the 
bitterest thing that he says against them is this, that = 


he verily believes, some of them are so abandoned, 
as not to have a regular meal, or a sou id night’s 
sleep in a week. Ms al leaded 
At eleven, Succus bids all good night, and parts 
in great friendship. _He is presently in bed, and 
sleeps till it is time to go to the coffee-house next 
morning. gir 
If you was to live with Succus for a twelve- 
month, this is all that you would see in his life, ex- 
cept a few curses and oaths that he uses as occa- 
sion offers. — iy 
And now I cannot help making this reflection : 
14. That as I believe the most likely means in’ 
the world to inspire a person with true piety, was 
to have seen the example of some eminent profess- 
ors of religion : sis, coi thing that is likely to 
fill us with the same zeal, is to see the folly, the 
baseness, and poor satisfactions ofa life destitute 
of religion. As the one excites us to love and ad- 
mire the wisdom and greatness of religion; so the 
other may make us fearful of living without its 
For who can help blessing God for the means of 
grace, and for the hope of glory, when he sees what 
variety of folly they sink into, who live without it ? 
Who would not heartily engage in all the labours of 
a pious life, when he sees what dull sensuality, 
what gross enjoyments they are left to, who seek 
for happiness in other ways? 
So that whether we consider the greatness of 
religio ‘or the littleness of all other things, and the 
meanness of all other enjoyments, there is nothing 
to be found in the whole nature of things, fora 4 
tmougpliat mind to rest upon but a happiness in re- } 
110N. hag Es! its, pie ? 


“ee i .) 
+ “ cs 
N: i > ’ 


- 418 A SERIOUS" CALE» . 


©) 15. Consider now with yourself, how un sasoil- 
ably it is pretended, that a life of strict piety must 


© bea dull and anxious state?’For car ee 
reason be said, that the duties of religion re 

our lives, heavy and melane ho y 
deprive us of such happiness as 


, when they onl 
has been beh aid 

before you? it Sh ty. iia 
‘Must it be tedious to live in the continual exercise 
of charity and temperance, to act wisely and yvirtu- 
_. ously, to do good to the utmost of your power, to 
_ imitate the divine perfections, and prepare yourself 
for the enjoyment of God? Must it be dull and tire- 
Some to improve in holinsss, to feel the comforts of 
conscience in all your actions, to know that God is 
___-your friend, that all must work for your good ; that 
‘neither ‘life nor death, neither men nor devils, can 


> 


‘do you any harm ; but that all your sufferings and 
doings are in a short time to be rewarded with ever- 
lasting glory:n ust such a state be dull and tire- 
some, for want of such happiness as Flatus or Fel- 

: ‘iciana enjoys? = Pde ag 8 cee 
: Now, if this cannot ‘be said, then there is no 
happiness lost by being strictly pious; nor has the 
devout man any thing to envy in any other state of 
life. . For all the art and contrivances in the world, 
without religion, cannot make more of human life, 
or carry its happiness to any greater height than 

Flatus or Feliciana have done. ig nl 
The finest wit the greatest’ genius upon earth, if 
not governed by religion, must be as foolish and 
low, and vain, in his method of happiness as the 

Po pails, 3s de: Peay eal at" 
(es u were to see a man dully endeavouring 
alll his i fe to satisfy his thirst, by holding up one 
and the same empty cup to his mouth, you wo 
certainly despise his ignorance. gues 
But, if you should see others of Mie oar 
at ag 

ie 


and finer understandings, ridiculing the 


“ 


Ne ; 


£O A HOLY LIFE. 119" 


own thirst by variety of gilt and golden empty cups; __ 
would you think that these were ever the wiser, or 
happier, or better employed, for their finer parts? 

Now, this is all the difference that you can.see in 
the happiness of this life. — 

The dull and heavy soul may be content with 
one empty appearance of happiness, and be con- 
tinually trying to hold the same empty cup to his 
mouth all his Tif. But let the wit, the deep schol- _ 
ar, the fine genius, the great statesman, the polite 
gentleman, lay all their heads together, and they — 
can only shew you more and yarious empty ap- 
pearances of happiness; give them all the world 
in their hands, let them cut and carve as they 
please, they can only make a greater variety of 
empty cups. oe 

So that if you do not think ft hard to be depriy- 
ed of the pleasures of gluttony, for the sake of reli- 
gion, you have no reason to think it hard to be re- 
strained from any worldly pleasure. For search as 
deep, and look as far as you, will, there is nothing 
here to be found, that is nobler, or greater than 
high eating and drinking, unless you look for it in 
the wisdom of religion. Pack aed 

And if all that is in the world are only so many 
empty cups, what does it signify which you take; or 
how many ? : ; 

17. If you would but use yourself.to such medi- « 
tations as these, to reflect upon the vanity of all or- 
ders of life without piety, to consider how all the 
ways ofthe world, are only so many different ways 
of error, blindness, and mistake ; these meditations 
would awaken your soul into a zealous desire of _ 
that solid happiness which is only to be found in 
recourse to God. hte. 

18. To meditate upon the perfection of the divine 
attributes, to contemplate the glories of heayen, to 


faction of one cup, and thinking to satisfy their ° 
ah 


120 A SERIOUS CALL) 


consider the joys of saints and angels living forever 
in the brightness and glory of the diyine presence ; 
these are the meditations of souls adyanced in piety, 
and not suited to every capacity. igs 

. But to see and consider the emptiness and error 
of all worldly happiness; to see the grossness of 
sensuality, the poorness of pride, the stupidity of 
covetousness, the vanity of dress, the blindness of 
our passions, the uncertainty of our lives, and the 
shortness of all worldly projects ; these are medita- 
tions that are suited to all capacities. They re- 


‘quire no depth of thought, or sublime. speculation ; 


but are forced uponus by all our senses, and taught 
by almost every thing that we see and hear. 

This is that ‘“‘ wisdom that crieth, and putteth 
forth her voice in the streets,”? (Proy. viii. 1.) that 
standeth at all-our doors, that appealeth to all our 
senses, teaching us im every thing and every where, 
by all that we see, and all that we hear, by births 
and burials, by sickness and health, by life and 
death, by pains and poverty, by misery and vanity, 
and by all the changes of life, that there is nothing 
else for man tolook after, no other end in nature for 
him to drive at, but a happiness in religion. 


as 


| “vo A HOLY LIFE. 
Re 


cP 


"CHAPTER XI. 


’ A 4 


This represented in various characters. 


‘ed 


“y 
1. Ocravivs is a learned, ingenious man, well 
versed in most parts of literature, and no stranger t 
any kingdom in Europe. The other day, being 
just recovered froma lingering fever, he took upon” 
him to talk thus to his friends : Sate 
‘My glass,” says he, “is almost run out; and 
your eyes see how many marks of age and death 
{ bear about me: but I plainly feel myself sinking 
away faster than any standers-by imagine. I fully 
believe, that one year more will conclude my reck= 
oning.” “ih 
The attention of his friends was rear Bonet by 


io 
5 


such a declaration, expecting to hear something 
truly excellent from so learned a man, who had but 
a year longer’to live: when Octavius proceeded in 
this manner, “ For these reasons,” says he, “‘ my 
friends, I have left off all taverns ; the wine of those 
places is not good enough for me in this decay of 
nature. I must now be nice in what I drink. I 
cannot pretend to do as I have done; and there- 
fore I am resolved to furnish my own cellar with a 


little of the yery best, though it cost me ever so 


much. ",/.1 Prk 
2. A few days atter Octavius had made this de-. 
claration to his friends, he relapsed into his former 
illness, was committed to a nurse, who closed his 
eyes before his:fresh parcel of wine came in. 
L 


wl " oe 


That not only a life of vanity, or sensuality, buteven 
the most regular kind of life, that is not governed 
by great devotion, sufficiently shews rts miseries, its _ 

- wants and emptiness to the eyes of all the world. — 


eS ae ae i 
he P * 30 

7 y 

122 A SERIOUS CALL) | 


bs by te | 


Young Eugenius, who was present at this ‘dis- 
course, poke fine anew man. e . ae 

I never, says Eugenius, was so deeply affected 
with the wisdom and importance of religion, as 
when I saw how poorly and meanly the learned 
Poe was to leaye the world through the want 
OF it. : 

_ 3. Was all to die with our bodies, there might 
be some pretence for those different sorts of happi- 
“ness, that are now so much talked of:. but since 
our all begins at the death of our bodies; since all 
men are to be immortal, either in misery or hap- 
piness, in a world entirely diiferent from this ; since 
they are all hastening thence at all uncertainties, 
as fast as death can cut them down; some in sick- 
ness, some in health, som® sleeping, some waking, 
some at/midnight, others at cock-crowing, and all at 
hours they know not of; is it not certain, that no 
man can exceed another in joy and happiness, but 
so far_as he exceeds him in those virtues which fit 

‘him fora happy death ? be 

4. Cognatus is a sober, regular clergyman, of 
good repute in the world, and well esteemed in his 
parish. All his parishoners say, he is an honest 
man, and very notable at making a bargain. The 
farmers listen to him with great attention, when. he 
talks of the properest time of selling corn. : 

He bas been for twenty years a diligent observer of 
markets and has raised a considerable fortune by 
good management. 

Cognatus is very orthodox, and full of esteem for 
our English Liturgy ; and if he has not prayers on 
Wednesdays and Fridays, it is because his prede- 
cessor had not used the parish to any such custom. 
As he cannot serve both his livings himself, so he 
makes it matter of conscience to keep a sober cu- 
rate upon one of them, whom he hires to take wig 


‘ 


& » 


moor 


tes, 


‘> 


was peop up, where neither moth carp pt- | 
_ eth, nor thieves break through and steal; could it 
' with any reason be said, that he had mistaken the 


TO A HOLY LIFE. alto 


nthe parish, at as cheaparateas 
can be procured. F “¥ 
has been very prosperous allhis time; 
‘has had the uneasiness and vexations that ~ 

y have, who are deep in worldly business.— ~ 
Taxes, losses, crosses, bad mortgages, bad tenants, _ 
and the hardness of the times, are frequent subjects 

of his conversation ; and a good or tad season has 2 
great effect upon his spirits. = 

Cognatus has no other end in growing rich, but 
that he may leave a considerable fortune to @ niece 
whom he has politely educated in expensive finery, 
by what he has saved out of the tithes of two liv- © 
ings. ee 

The neighbours look upon Cognatus as an hap- 
py clergyman, because they see him (as they call 
it) in good circumstances ; and some of them in- 
tend to dedicate their own sons to the Church, be- 
cause they see how well it has succeeded with Cog- 
natus, whose father was but an ordinary man. — 

5. But now if Cognatus, when he first entered 
into holy orders, had perceived how absurd a thing 
it is to growrich by the gospel; if he had proposed 
to himself the example of some primitive father ; 
if, instead of twenty years care to lay up treasures 
upon earth, he had distributed the income of every 
year in the most Christian acts of charity : 

If, instead of tempting his neice to be proud, and 
providing her with such ornaments as the apostle 
forbids, he had clothed, comforted, and relieved 
numbers of widows and orphans, who were all to — 
appear for him at the last day: 

If, instead of the cares and anxieties of bad bo 
troublesome mortgages, and ill bargains, he had 
the constant comfort of knowing, that his 1 


e 


‘~ 
@® Wee: 


c 


Be faa Mahe cate 
: 2 * i P 


nstedd of rejoicing in't 


er clergymen not suffered to live by those altars at 
which they serve. If this had been the spirit of 
_, Cognatus, could it with any reason be said, that 
these rules of religion, this strictness of piety, had 
robbed Cognatus of any real happiness? Could it 
be said, that a life this governed by the spirit of the 
- gospel, must be dull and melancholy, if ‘compared 
to that of raising a fortune for a ni : : 
6. Look now at that condition of life which draws 
the envy of all. i 
Negotius isa temperate honestman. He served 
his time under a master of great trade ; but has by 
his own management, made it a more Considerable 
‘business than ever it was before. For thirty years 
last past, he has been corresponding with all parts 
of Europe. The general good of trade seems to 
Negotius to be the general good of life; whatever 
he commends or condemns, either in church or 
state, is commended or condemned, with regard to 
ade. } mh <br 
~ As money is continually pouring in upon him; 
so he often lets it go in yarious kinds of expense 
wee and generosity, 2 sometimes in ways of charit 
eh Negotius is al 


ways ready to, join in any public 
a contribution. If a purse is making at any pla 
__- where he happens to be, whether it be to bi 


\ 


*o 


cd 
970 A HOLY LIFE. 125 


plate for a horse-race, or to redeem a prisoner out 
of jail, you a > always sure of having something 
from him. er 
has given a fine ring of bells toa church in 
the country ; and there is much expectation that he 
will some time or other make a more beautiful front 


to the market-house, than has yet been seen in any 
place: for it is the generous spirit of Negotius, to 


de nothing in a mean way. 

7. If you ask what itis that has secured Nego- 
tius from all scandalous vices, it is the same thing 
that has kept him from all strictness of devotion, it 
is his great business. He has always had too ma- 
ny important things in his head: his thoughts are 
too much employed, to suffer him to fall either inte 
a course of rakery, or to feel the necessity of an 
inward solid piety. 

For this reason he hears of the pleasures of de- 
bauchery, and the pleasures of piety, with the same 
indifferency ? and has no more desire of living in 
the one than in the other, because neither of them 
consists with that turn of mind, and multiplicity of 
business, which are his happiness. 

if Negotius was asked, what it is which he drives 
at in life? He would be as much at a loss for an 
answer, as if he was asked, what any other person 
is thinking of. For though he always seems to 
himself to know what he is doing, and has many 
things in his head, which are the motives of his ac- 


tions: yet he cannot tell you of any one general . 


end of life that he has chosen with deliberation, as 
being truly worthy of all his labour and pains. 

He has several confused notions in his hea 
which have been a long time there; such as these; 
abat it is something great to have »more busines 
than other people, to have mdfeaditalings upon his 
hands than an hundred of the same profession; to 
grow continually richer and richer, and to raise an 

b 2. & 


happiness, think upon Negotius ; 


* 


_ Jeaves the wo 


os 2 « 


126. A SERIOUS CALL 
immense fortune before he dies. The ‘thing that. 
seems to give Negotius the greatest life and spiri 
and to be most in his thoughts, is an expec ee 
uae he shall die richer than any of his busin ass ever 
id. ae eG 
8. The generality of people Pitietiey think of 
ete a) E 
in whose life ev~ 
ery instance of happiness is supposed to meet ; so- 
ber, prudent, rich, prosperous, generous, and char- 
itable. ytd “TY 5 ites oer ea oi, 
Let us now look at this condition in another, but 
truer light. eet oe aaa «: ri 
Let it be supposed, that this same Negotius was 
a painful laborious man, very deep in variety of af- 
fairs; that he neither drank nor debauched, but 
was sober and regular in his business. Let it be 
supposed, that he grew old in this course of trading; 
and that the end and design of all his labour, and 
care, and application to business, was only this, 
that he might die possessed of more than an hun- 
dred thousand pair of boots and spurs. — 
Let it be supposed, that the sobe 


ber part of the 
world say of him when he is dead, that he was a 
great and happy man, a thorough master of busi- 
ness, and had acquired an hundred thousand pair 
of boots and spurs when he died. ee 


» 9. Now, if this was really the case, I believe it 


would be readily granted, that a life of such busi- 
ness was as poor and ridiculous, as any that can 
be invented. But it would puzzle any one to shew, 
that a man that has spent all his time and thoughts 
in business and hurry, that he might die, asat is 


said, worth an hundred thousand pounds, is any 


whit wiser than he 


who has taken the same pains 
to have as mea 


air of boots and spurs. when he 


For if the state of our souls be our whole state ; 
if the only end of life be to dighs free from sin, and 


. ea 
es ey - 1, 


ee 
“aS 4 


t 
» 70 A HOLY LIFE: 127° 


as exalted in virtue as we can; if naked as we 
came, so naked are we to return, and to stand a 
trial before Christ and his holy angels, for everlast- ~~ 
: Rowent, oh! Ls 8 6 . 3 5 ’ 
ing happiness or misery, what can it possibly sig- 
nify, what a man had, or had not in this world? x 

h 

: 


What can it signify what you call these things that 
a man left behind him: whether you call them his 
or any one’s else; whether you call them trees or 
fields, or birds and feathers; whether you call 
them an hundred thousand pounds, or an hundred 7 
thousand pair of boots and spurs? I say callthem; = 
for the things signify no more to him than the 
names. ’ — 

. Now it is easy to see the folly ofa life thus spent 
to furnish a man with such a number of boots and 
spurs. But yet their needs no better faculty of see- 
ing, ho finer understanding, to see the folly ofa life 
spent in making a man possessor of ten towns be- 
fore he dies. — . 

For if, when he has got all his towns, or all his 

boots, his soul is to go into its own place amongst 
separate spirits, and his body be laid by in a coffin, 
till the last trumpet calls him to judgment; where the 
enquiry will be, how humbly, how devoutly, how 
meekly, how piously, how charitably, we have spo- 
ken, thought and acted, whilst we'were in the body ? 
How can we say, that he who has worn out his 
life in raising an hundred thousand pounds, has act- 
ed wiser for himself than he who has had the same 


that to which he had served an apprentices! 
there were things which belong to man, 
more importance than all that our eyes 


5 


P 


of the ‘soul than to have a lates Sm 


re 


e. 
ee 


. U 
128: A SERIOUS CALL 9 


so glorious, as to deserve all our chaughtss so dan- 
» gorau to need all our care; and so certain, as 
never to deceive the faithful labourer Hae 

Let it be su ipposed, that by reading this book, he 
had discovered that his soul more to him than 
his body:: that it was better fo grow 


y, ora ‘full 
purse ; that it was better to be fit fo eaven, than 
to have a variety of fin 1e houses oped earth that it 
was better to secure an everlasting happiness, than 
to have plenty of things which he-eannot keep; bet- 
ter to live in habits of humility, piety, chari y,a 
self-denial, than to die > barca ae ner 
better to be most nee our ee - 


fortune. ae 
Let it be he that Negotius, believing these 
things to be true, entirely devoted himself to God 
at his first setting out in the wo 
pursue his business no further tl 
with great devotion, humility, and sel 
for no other ends, but to nooglall himself 


with a so- 
ber subsistence, and to do all the good he could, to 
the souls and bodies of his fellow-creatures, 
Let it therefore be supposed, that instead of the 
continual hurry of business, he was frequent i in his’ 
_xetirements: that instead of restless desires a0 
more riches, his soul had been full ofthe love of 
God and heavenly affection, constantly watching 
against worldly tempers, and always aspiring after 
divine grace; that instead of. worldly cares and » 
contrivances, he had been busy in fortifying | 
soul against all approaches of sin ; that i aste: i 
costly shew, and he expensive generosity of a 
splendid life, | loved and exercised all instan- 
ces of humility wliness; that instead of great 
treats and full tables, his house had only furnished 
_asober refreshment to those that wanted it. 


“ell it be . that his contentment kept 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 129 


him free from all kinds of envy. ‘That his piety 
made him thankefal to God in all crosses and disap- 
poininaa That his charity kept him from being 
rich, by a continual distribution to all objects of 
compassion. = = i t 
12. Now had this been the Christian Spirit of 
Negotius, can any one say, that he had lost the 
true happiness of life, by thus conforming to the 
spirit, and living up to the hope of the gospe! ? 
Can it be said, that a life made exemplary by 
such virtues as these, which keep heaven always in 
our sight, which both delight and exalt the soul 
here, and prepare it for the presence of God here- 


ea ot at >» 


after must be poor and dull, if compared to that of — 


heaping up riches, which can neither stay with us, 


4) 


nor we with them. 


It would be endless to multiply examples of this - 
kind, to shew you how little is lost, and how much. : 
is gained, by introducing a strict and exact piety ~ 


into every condition of human life. 

_ I shall now therefore leave it to your own med- 
itation, to carry this way of thinking farther, hop- 
ing that enough is said,. to convince yourself, that 
an exalted piety is so far from rendering any life 
dull and tiresome, that it is the only joy and hap- 
piness of any condition inthe world. 

13. Imagine to yourself some person in a con- 
sumption, or any other lingering distemper, that 
Was incurable. 

If you were to see such a man wholly intent 
upon doing every thing in the spirit of religion 
making the wisest use of all his time, fortune, and 
abilities. Ifhe was for carrying every duty of 
piety to its greatest height, and striving to have all 
the advantage that could be had in the remainder 
of his life. If he avoided all business, but such as 
was necessary ; if he was averse to all the follies 
and vanities of the world, had no taste for finery 
and shew, but sought forall his comfort in the hopes 


Me 


| and happy, as any © one can be in a st 


‘could scarce stand 


. a _— 


130 .  & SERIOUS CALL 


and expectations of religion; you would ¢ tainly 
commend his oaths. you would say” tte hd had 
taken the right method to make himself as | 


firmit . 
the otto hand, if you 
per with trembling han 
aws, ‘and hollow ete es, 
“and bargains, a 
should see him sien dv 
money in horses | dog 
the prayers of the poor foi 
soon to be separated from 
tainly condemn him as a weak ; 
14. Now as.it is easy to sée 
the wisdom and happiness of a reli Fic 
consumptive man, so if you purs 
of thinking, you will as easily per 
wisdom and happiness of a Pi 18 
other state of life. 
For how soon will any man that I 
in the state of him that isin a cor Re et . 
soon will he want all the same comforts of rel 
which every dying man wants? — ps ; 
_. And if it be wise and happy to live piou 
ase we have not above a year to live, | 
eing more wise, and making ourse ves mc 
‘py; to live piou ea we may have m = 
years to come? bs e year of piety before we die, 
is so desirable, are not more years of ple 
more desirable : Hig 
15. If a man had five fixed years to live,: ou. 
‘not possi thi :. ae Lee intending to. wake 
the ie st use oft n he saw his stay so 
short in this “a t needs think that this 


was not a world for od om when he saw how near 


ee as to another world, that was ete ao 


2 ca 


—— 


‘ 


- 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 131 


surely think it necessary to be very diligent in pre- 
paring for it. i a 
Now as reasonable as piety appears in such a 
circumstance of life, it is yet more reasonable in 
every circumstance of life, to every thinking man. 
For who but a madman, can recount that he has 
s certain tocome? 1 ee. 
And if it be reasonable and necessary to deny 


fa 


~ our worldly tempers, and live wholly unto God, 


because we are certain that we are to die at the 
end of five years ; surely it must be much more rea- 
sonable and necessary, for us to live in the same 
spirit, because we have no certainty, that. we shall 
live five weeks. ; 

16. Again, if we are to add twenty years to the 
five, which is ¥n all probability more than will be © 
added to the lives of many people, who are at 
man’s estate ; what a poor thing it is! how small a 
difference is there between fiye, and twenty-five 
years ? > ; 

It is said, that a day is with God as a thousand 
years, and a thousand years as one day ; because 


in regard to his eternity, this difference is as noth- 


ing. 

Now as we are created to be eternal, to live an 
endless succession of ages upon ages, where thou- 
sands, and millions of thousands of years will hav 
no proportion to our everlasting life in God;s 
with regard to this eternal state, which is our real, 
state, twenty-five years is as poor apittance as 
twenty-five days. 

We can never make any true judgment of time 
as it relates to us, without considering the true state 
of our duration. If we are temporary beings, then 
alittle time may justly be called a.great deal in re- 
lation to us, but if we are eternal beings, then the, 


difference of a few years is as nothing. Pte 


132 . A SERIOUS CALL 


17. If we were to suppose three different sorts of 
rational beings, all of different, but fixed duration, 
one sort that lived certainly only a month, the 
other a year, and the third an hundred years. 

_If these beings were to meet together, and talk 
about time, they must talk in a very different lan- 
guage ; half an hour to those who were to live but a 
month, must be a very different thing to what it is 
to those, who are to live an hundred years. 

As therefore time is thus a different thing, with 
regard to the state of those who enjoy it, so if we 
would know what time is with regard to ourselves, 
we must consider our stale. ‘iat m 

Now, since our eternal state is as certainly ours, 
as our present state ; since we are as certainly to 
live for ever, as we are now to live atall; it is 
plain, that we cannot judge of the value of any 
particular time, as to us, but by comparing it to 
that eternal duration, for which we are created. 

If you would know, what five years signify to a 
being that was to live an hundred, you must com- 
pare five to an hundred, and see what proportion 
it bears to it, and then you will judge ri it 

So if you would know what twenty - 
fy to a son of Adam, you must compare it, not toa 
million of ages, but to an eternal duration, to which 
no number of millions bears any proportion: and 
then you will judge right, by finding it nothing. 

18. Consider therefore this ; how would you con- 
demn the folly of a man, thatyshould lose his share 


of future glory, for the sake of being rich, or great, 


. or praised, or delighted in any enjoyment, only one 
oor day before he was to die! yes dees 
But if the time will come, when a nuinber of 
years will seem less to every one, thana day does 
now ; what a condemnation must it then be, if €ter- 
nal happiness should be lost, for something less 
than the enjoyment of a day! : 


years signi- 


TO A HOLY LIFE. _ 1338 


i. ee 

Why does a day seem a trifle to us now? It ite. 
cause we have years to set against it. It is the 
duration of years that makes it seem as nothing. 


What a trifle therefore m e years of a man’s _— 


age , when they are forced to be set against 
cert, when there hall be nothing but eternity 
tocompare them with! | 

And this will be the case of every man, as soon 
as he is out of the body ; he will be forced to forget 


the distinction of days and years, and to measure 


time not by the course of the sun, but by setting it 
against eternity. : 

As the fixed stars, by reason of our being placed 
at such distance from them, appear but as so many 
points ; so when we, placed in eternity, shall look 
‘back upon all time, it will appear but as a moment. 

y hey lixury. an indulgence, a prosperity, a 
greatness of fifty years, will seem to every one that 
looks back upon it, as the same poor short enjoy- 
ment, as if he had been snatched away in his first 
sin. 3 
These few reflections upon time, are only to shew 
how poorly they think, how miserably they judge, 
who are less careful of an eternal state, because 
they may be at some years distance from it, than they 
would be if they knew they were within a few 
__ weeks of it. is 


4 


134 A SERIOUS CALL 


CHAPTER XII. 


‘Concerning that part of Devotion which relates to 
times and hours of prayer. Of daily early pray- 
er in the morning. How we may wnprove our 


forms of Prayer, and increase the spirit of devo- 


Hone Z 


1. Ffavine in the foregoing chapters shewn the 
necessity of a devout spirit, in every part of our 
common life, in the discharge of all our business, 
in the use of all the gifts of God: I come now to 
consider that part of devotion, which relates to 
times and hours of prayer. ° 

I take it for granted, that every Christian, that 
is in liealth is up early in the mornit ; for. it is 
much more reasonable to suppose a person up ear- 
ly, because he is a Christian, than because he is a 
labourer or a tradesman, or a servant, or has busi- 
ness that wants him. ' 

We naturally conceive some abhorence of a man 
that is in bed, when he should be at his labour, or 
inhis shop. We cannot tell how to think any thing 
ood of him, who is such a slave to drowsiness, as 
to neglect his business for it. 7 

‘Let this therefore teach us to conceive, how 
odious we must appear in the sight of heaven, if we 
are in bed, shut up in sleep, when we should be 
praising God, and are such slaves to drowsiness, as 
to neglect our devotions for it. | 

For ifhe is to be blamed as a slothful drone, that 
rather chooses the lazy indulgence of sleep, than to 
perform his proper worldly business ; how much 
more is he to be reproached, that had rather lie 


ie. 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 135 


“s 
folded up in a bed than be raising up his heart to 
God, in acts of praise and adoration ? 

2. Prayer is the nearest approach to God, and 
the highest enjoyment of him that we are capable 
of in this life. es 

It is the noblest exercise of the soul, the most 
exalted use of our best faculties, and the highest 
imitation of the blessed inhabitants of heaven. ~ 

When our hearts are full of God, sending up holy 
desires to the throne of grace, we are then in our 
highest state, we are upon the utmost height ef 
human greatness; we are not before kings and 
princes, but in the presence of the Lord of all the 
world, and can be no higher, till death is swallow- 
ed up in glory. 

On the other hand, sleep is the poorest, dullest 
refreshment of the body, that is so far from being 
intended as an enjoyment, that we are forced to 
receive it either in a state of insensibility, or in the 
folly of dreams. 

Sleep is such a dull, stupid state of existence, 


that even amongst mere animals, we despise them - 


most which are most drowsy. 

He therefore that chooses to enlarge the slothful 
indolence of sleep, rather than be early at his devo- 
tions to God, chooses the dullest refreshment of the 
body, before the-highest, noblest enjoyment of the 
soul; he chooses that state, which is a reproach to 
mere animals, rather than that exercise which is 
_the glory of angels. 

_ Besides, he that cannot deny himself this drowsy 
indu ence, but must pass away good part of the 
morning in it, isno more prepared for prayer when 
he is up, than he is prepared for fasting or any 
other self-denial. He may indeed more easily read 
over a form of prayer, than he can perform those 
duties; but he is no more disposed for the true 
spirit of prayer, than he is disposed for fasting. 


et | 


w~ 


* 
~ 136 A SERIOUS CALL 


‘For sleep thus indulged, gives a softness and idle- 
ness to all our tempers, and makes us unable to 
relish any thing, but what suits with an idle.state of 
mind, and gratifies our natural tempers, as sleep 
does. So that a person that is a slave to this idle- 
ness, is in the same temper when he is up; and 
though he is not asleep, yet he is under the effects 
of it; and every thing that is idle, indulgent, or sen- 
‘sual, pleases him for the same reason that sleep 
pleases him: on the other hand, every thing thet 
requires care, trouble, or self-denial, is hateful 
him, for the same reason that he hates to rise. 

4. Itis not possible in nature for.an epicure to be 
truly devout ; he must renounce his sensuality, be- 
fore he can relish the happiness of devotion. 

Now, he that turns sleep into an idle indulgence, 
does as much to corrupt his soul, to make ita slave 
to bodily appetites, as he that turns the necessities 
of eating into a course of indulgence. 

A person that eats and drinks too much, does not 
feel such effects from it as those do, who live in no- 


Af. torious gluttony and intemperance; but yet his 


course of indulgence, though it be not scandalous 
inthe eyes of the world, nor such as torments his 
own conscience, isa great and constant hindrance 
to his improvement in virtue; it gives him eyes 
that see not;.and ears that hear not; it creates a 
sensuality in the soul, increases the power of bodi- 
ly passions, and makes him incapable of entering 
into the true spirit of religion. 

And this is the case of those who waste, their 
time in sleep; it does not disorder «heir lives, or 
wound their consciences, as notorious acts of intem- 
perance do; but, like any other more moderate 
course of indulgence, it silently, and by smaller de- 


grees, wears away the spirit of religion, and sinks 


the soul into a state of dullness and sensuality. 


Ea 
TO A HOLY LIFE. 137 


5. If you consider devotion only as a time of so 
much prayer, you may perhaps perform it, though 
you live in this daily indulgence; but if you con- 
sider it as a state of the heart, that is deeply af- 
fected with a sense of its own misery and infirmi- 
ties, and desires the Spirit of God more than all 
things in the world, you will find the spirit of indul- 
gence, and the spirit of prayer, cannot subsist to- 

‘gether. Self-denial, of all kinds, is the very life 
‘and soul of piety: but he that has not so small a 
degree of it, as to be able to be early at his pray- 
ers, can have no reason to think that he has taken 
up his cross, and is following Christ. ; 

What conquest has*he got over himself? What 
right hand has he cut off? What trial is he prepar- 
ed for? What sacrifice is he ready to offer to God, 
who cannot be so cruel to himself, as to rise to 
prayer at such a time as the drudging part of the 
world are content to rise to their labour ? 

6. Some people will not scruple to tell you, that 

they indulge themselves in sleep, because they . 
have nothing to do: and that if they had either bu 
siness or pleasure to rise to, they would not lose si 
much of theirtime in sleep. But-such people m 
be told that they mistake the matter: that’they have 
a great deal of business to do; they have a harden- 
_ ed heart to change; they have the whole spirit of 
religion to get. For surely, he that thinks devoti 
to be of less moment than business or pleasur 
or that he has nothing to do, because nothing bu 
his prayers want him, may be justly said to have 
the whole spirit of religion to seek. 

You must not therefore consider how small a 
crime itZis to rise late; but you must consider 
how great a misery it is, to want the spirit of re- 

ligion; to have a heart not rightly affected with 
prayer, and to live in such softness and idleness, 


mM 2 


138 “a SERIOUS CALL” 


as makes you incapable of the most fundamental 
duties of a Christian life. fies 
__ When you read the scriptures, you see a religion 
that is all life and spirit, and joy in God; that sup- 
poses our souls risen from'earthly desires and bodi- 
ly indulgences, to prepare for another body, an- 
other world, and other enjoyments. You see 
Christians represented as temples of the Holy 
' Ghost, as children of the day, as candidates for an 
_ eternal crown, as watchful virgins, that have 
lamps always burning in expectation of the bri 
'. groom. But can he be thought to have this joy in 
God, this care of eternity, this watchful spirit, who 
has not zeal enough to rise to his prayers? — 
7 7. IfJ was todesire you not to study the gratifi- 
“cation of your palate, in the nicities of meats and 
' drinks, I would not insist upon the crime of wasting 
_ your money in such a way, though it be a great 
_one; but I would desire you to renounce such a 
way of life, be@ause it supports you in such a state 
», of sensuality and indulgence, as renders you inca- 
able of relishing the most essential doctrines of 
gion. Bays 
For’ the same reason I do not insist siete 
he crime of.wasting your time in sleep, though it 
be a great one; but I desire you torenounce this 
indulgence, because it gives a softness and idleness 
~ toyour soul, and is so contrary to that lively, zeal- 
watchful, self-denying spirit, which was not 
( the spirit of Christ and his apostles, and the 
spirit of all the saints and martyrs which have ever 
» been among men, but must be the spirit those who 
“would not sink in the common ruption of the 
- world. ’ i 
. . Here therefore we must fix our charge against 
this practice ; we must blame it, not as having this 
or that particular evil, but as a general habit; that 


extends itself through our whole spirit, and supports. 


a state of mind that is wholly wrong. 


To A HOLY LIFE. 139 


itis contrary to piety ; not as accidental slips 
and mistakes in life are contrary to it, but in such 
a manner, as an ill habit of body is contrary to 
health. © $435 

On the other hand, if you was to rise early every 
‘morning, as an instance of self-denial, as a method 
of renouncing indulgence, as a means of redeeming 
your time, and fitting your spirit for prayer, you 
would find mighty advantages fromit. This meth- 
od, though it seems such a small circumstance, | 
would in all probability be a means of great piety. _ 
It would keep it constantly in your heads, that soft- — 
ness and idleness were to be avoided; that self-de- 
nial was a part of christianity. It would teach you — 
to exercise power over yourself, and make you able, — 
to renounce other pleasures and tempers that war 


against the soul. | 
But above all, what is so planted and watered, _ 
will certainly have an increase from God. You 

will then speak from your heart, yous Lbe 
awake, your prayers will refresh you 
drink, you will feel what you say, ant 
know what saints and holy men have mea 
vour in devotion. ~ sia 
8. Hoping therefore that you are now,convins 
ced of the necessity of rising early to your Bayes 
I shall proceed to Jay before you a method of daily —__ 
prayer. et 
I do not take upon me to prescribe to you the wey 
' 


ef any particular forms of prayer, but you will here 

find some helps, how to furnish yourself with such 

as may be useful. And if your heart is ready to y 
ray in its own language, I press gio necessity ¢ % 

Hee fiers forms. et, rr t tad 
For though I think’a form of prayer very neces= 

sary to public worship, yet if any one can find a 

better way of raising his heart unto God in pri- 

vate, I have nothing to object against it; my de- 


| ba ee 


, 


140 A SERIOUS CALL r. 


sign being only to assist and direct such as Stand 
in need of this assistance. ne ee 

~ It seems right for such an one to begin with a 
form of prayer: and if, in the midst of it he finds 
his heart ready to break forth into other words, he 
may leave his form, and follow those fervours of 

his heart till it again want the assistance of his usu- 

al petitions. — ; 

This seems to be the true liberty of private de- 

“votion: it may be under the direction of hid 

» form ; yet not so tied down to it, but that it may 

to take such new expressions as its present 

pen to furnish it with, which sometimes 

ore powerfully to God than any 

ere ever used before. 

e are changeable in regard to de- 

es our hearts have such strong 

ther Pt are so full of 
ia we ca aot speak in any language 

"lip : 4 Se & ®, ) aad - 


es the light of God’s rr shines 
§ 


, we see so far into the invisible world, we 


ected with the wonders of the goodness of 

: at our hearts worship in a language higher 

than. that of words, and we feel tran: f devo- 
‘tion, whichonly canbefelt. = 9 ~ pm 

Cn the other hand, sometimes we are so sunk in- 


_ to our bodies, so.dull and unaffected with that which 
‘concerns our souls, that we cannot keep pace with 
our forms of confession, or feel half of that in our 
hearts, which we have in our mouths: we thank 
and praise God with forms of words, but ou® hearts 


3 


_ have little Mygtere in them. Bs oi: 
~ We may provide against this inconstancy of 
our hearts, by having at hand such forms of prayer, 


_.. as may best suit us when our hearts are in their best 
state, and also be most likely to stir them up, when 


they are sunk into dulness. ~~ e 


:< 


* 


al 


* 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 141 


10. The first thing you are to do, when you are 
upon your knees, is, with a short silence, let your 
soul place itself in the presence of God: use this, 
or some other method, to separate yourself from 5 
all common thoughts, and make your heart as sen- __ 
sible as you can of the divine presence. 

Now, if this recollection of spirit is necessary, 
as who can say itis not? how poorly musttheyper- __ 
form their devotions, who are always in a hurry; | ' 
who begin them in haste, and hardly allow them- . ~ 
selyes time fo repeat their very form with atten-” a 
tion? Theirs is properly saying prayers, instead of 2 
praying. a 

If you were to use yourself, as far as youcan, to 
pray always in the same place; if you were to re- 


serve that place fer devotion, and not allow your- — 


self to do-any thing common in it; if you were 
never to be there yout in times of devotion; — 
if any little room, or, if that cannot be, if any par- 
ticular part of a room was thus used, this kind of 
consecration of it, as a place holy unto God, 


would much assist your devotion. A aaa 
11. It may baud use to you to observe this far- # 
ther rule: when at any time, either in reading the © 
scripture, or any book of picty: you meet with a 

passage, that more than ordinarily affects your 

mind, turn it into the form ofa petition, and give it. 
a place in._your prayers. _ ; 

At all the ancl hours of prayer, it may be ms 
benefit to you, to have something fixed, and some- 
thing at liberty in your devotions. __ 

ou may have some fixed subject to be the chief 
matter of your prayer at that particular time; and — 
yet have liberty to add such other petitions, as your 
condition may then require. : 

For instance; as the morning is to you the be- 
ginning of a new life; as God has then given you ~~ 
a new enjoyment of yourself, and a fresh entrance 
into the world, it is highly proper that your first de- 


. 


ik 


“© reason of presenting unto God, some particular pe- 


ae 


as for a new creation; and that you she 


ie 


service and glory. 


‘ = roe 


* 
42... A SERIOUS CALL 


votions should be praise and thanksgiving 


body and soul, all you are, and all you k 


Receive therefore every day, as a resurrection 
from death, as a new enjoyment of Jife: meet every 
rising sun with such sentiments of God’s goodness, 
as if you had seen it, and all things new created 
upon your account ; and under the sense of so great 

.a blessing, let your heart praise and magaily s0 
good and glorious a Creator. A EY © 

‘Therefore praise and thanksgiving, and oblation 
of yourself to God, may be the fixed subject of your 
first prayers in the morning; and then take the 
liberty of adding such other devotions, as the acci- 
dental difference of your state, or the accidental dif- 


a of your heart shall direct. 


_ 12. One of the greatest benefits of private devo- 
‘tion, consists in adapting our prayers to the differ- 
“ence of our state and the difference of our hearts. 
By the difference of our state, is meant the differ- 
ence of our external state, as of sickness, health, 
pains, losses, disappointments, troubles, particular 
mercies, or judgments from God, and all sorts of 


_ kindnesses, injuries or reproaches from other peo- 


le. 

i Now, as these are great parts of our state of life, 
as they make great difference in it, by continually 
changing: so our devotion will be made doubly 
beneficial to us, when it watches to receive and 
sanctify all these changes of our state, and turns 
them all into so many occasions of a more partic- 
ular application to God, of’such thanksgiving, such 
resignation, such petitions, as our present state 
more especially requires. oa PP ints > 

And _ he that makes every change in his state, a 


" titions suitable to that change, will soon find, that 


a) 


“ 
a 


¥ aid. 
” ie : 
TO A HOLY LIFE. 143 


e ‘ 
he has taken an excellent means, not only of pray- a 2 
} 


ing with fervour, but of living as he prays. 


13. We are likewise always to adapt some part.» 
of our prayers to the different tempers of our 


hearts, as of love, joy, peace, tranquillity, dulness 
and dryness of spirit, anxiety, discontent, motions of 
envy and ambition, dark and disconsolate thoughts, 
resentments, fretfulness and peevish tempers. 

_ If we are in the delightful calm of sweet and ea- 


sy passions, of love and joy in God, we should then, 


offer the tribute of thanksgiving. 

If, on the other hand, we feel ourselves laden 
with heavy passions, with dulness of spirit, anxie- 
ty and uneasiness, we must then look up to God in 
acts of humility, confessing our unworthiness, open- 
ing our troubles to him, beseeching him in his good 
time to lessen our infirmities, and to deliver us from 
these passions. 


By this wise application of our prayers, we shall- 


getall the relief from them that is possible; and the 

very changeableness of our hearts, will prove a 

means of exercising a greater variety of holy tem- 
ers. 

? You will perceive by this, that persons ought 
to haye a great share in composing their own 

devotions. : 

As to that part of their prayers, which is always 
fixed, they may use forms composed by other per- 
sons; but in that part, which they are to suit to the 
present state of their life, and the present state of 
their heart, they must let the sense of their own 
condition help them to such kinds of petition, 
thanksgiving, or resignation, as their present state 
requires. vo c 

14. But it is amazing to see how eagerly men 


aa: 


‘ 
- 


he 


pe ie 2 ae 


‘ 


aiencidts 
a ee ee ee 


ee 6 


eS 


employ their parts, their study, application, and ~ 
exercise: how all helps are called to their assist-_ 


é 


’ ters; and how little they use. th 


..some improvement from him 


144 A SERIOUS CALL 


ance, when any thing is intende 


and abilities, to raise and increase their devotion. 
_ Mundanus is a man of excellent parts, and clear 
apprehension. He is well advanced in age, and 


has made a great figure in his business. Every 


part of trade that has fallen in his way, has had 
d he is always 
contriving to carry every method of doing any 
thing well to its greatest height. Mundanus aims 
at the greatest perfection in every thing. The 
strength of his mind, and bis just way of thinking, 
make him intent upon removing all imperfections. 

He can tell youall the defects and errors in all 
the common methods, whether of trade, building, or 
improving land or manufactures. The clearness 


and strength of his understanding, which he is con- 
stantly improving, by continual exercise in these” 
matters, by often digesting his thoughts in writing, 


and trying every thing every way, has rendered 
him a great master in most concerns in human life. 

Thus has Mundanus gone on, increasing his 
knowledge and judgment, as fast as his years came 


upon him. F : . 
Phe one thing which has notidallen 


Ce. 


improvement, nor received any benefit 
judicious mind, is his devotion: th 


same poor state it was, when he was only six years 
of age ; and the old man prays now in that little form 
of words which his mother used to hear him repeat 


night and morning. © 

This Mundanus, that hardly ever saw the poor- 
est utensil, or ever took the meanest trifle into his 
hand, without considering how it might be made 
or used to better advantage, has gone all his life 
long praying in the same manner a 
a child ; without ever considering hor 


or oftener he might pray. 


a. 


> 


x ? "Ga. 
$ TO A HOLY LIFE. 145 


_If Mundanus sees a book’ of devotion, he passes 


it by, a . dog spelling-book ; because he re-. > 


~, 


members. > learned to pray so many years 
ago under his mother, when he learned to spell. 

Now, how poor and pitiable is the conduct of 
this man of sense, who has so much judgment in 
every thing, but that which is the whole wisdom of 
man. . 

And how miserably do many people, more or 
less, imitate this conduct? , 

-15. Classicus is a man of learning, and well vers- 

ed in all the best authors of antiquity. He has 
read them so much, that he has entered into their 


spirit, and can imitate the manner of any of them. . 


All their thoughts are his thoughts, and he can ex- 
press himself in their language. He is so great a 
friend to this improvement of the mind, that if he 
lights on a young scholar, he never fails to advise 
him concerning his studies. 

Classicus tells his young man, he must not think 
that he has done enough, when he has only learned 
languages; but that he must be daily conversant 
with the ‘best authors, read them again and again, 
catch their spirit by living with them; and that 
there is. mo other way of becoming like them, or of 
making himself a man of taste and judgment. 

How wise might Classicus have been, if he had 
but thought “as justly of devotion, as he does of 
learning ? 

He never indeed says any thing shocking or of- 
fensive about devotion, because he never thinks or 
talks about it. It suffers nothing from him, but neg- 
lect and disregard, : 

The two testaments would not have had so much 
as a place amongst his books, but that they are 
both to be had in Greek. . 

16. Classicus thinks he sufficiently shews his re- 


N 
* 


146 A SERIOUS CALL 


_ gard for the holy Scripture, when he tells you, that 
_ .he has no other books of piety besides them. 


It is very well, Classicus, that you prefer the Bi- 
ble toall other books of piety; he has no judgment, 
that is not thus far of your anion. eo Rey 

But if you will have no other book of piety be- 
sides the Bible, because it is the best, How comes 
it, Classicus, that you do not content yourself with 
one of the best books among the Greeks and Ro- 
mans? How comes it that you are so eager after all 
of them? How comes it that you think the knowl- 
edge of one is a necessary help to the knowledge of 
the other? How comes it that you are so earnest, 
so laborious, so expensive of your time and money, 
to restore brokem periods, and scraps of the an- 
cients. : 

- How comesiit that you tell your young scholar. 
he must not content himself with barely understand- ” 
ing his authors, but must be continually reading 
them all, as the only means of entering into their 
spirit, and forming his own judgment according to 
them ? sade, ¥: 

Why then must the Bible lie alone in your study? 
Is not the spirit of the saints, the piety of the holy 
followers of Jesus Christ, as good and necessary a 
means of entering into the spirit and faste of 


a 


very line, 
direct his 


Sey Se 
Qu 
oe 

< 
inv) 
t=] 
fats) 
fr 
i=) 
fear) 
io¥) 
8 
oO 
oo 
1eR 
iq") 
a 
Q: 
te 
je¥) 
= 
m 
-> 
5. 
77] 
Fe) 
eo 
~ 


frequently exercising his tal 
habits of thinking and speakit 


eR ee ew at 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 147 
Pt 


ed in his mind? and is there not the same advan- 
tage to be made by books of devotion? Should not 
’ a man use them inthe same way, that habits of de- 
votion, and aspiring to God in holy thoughts, may 
be well formed in his soul? 

Now the reason why Classicus does not think 
and judge thus reasonably of devotion, is owing to 
his never thinking of it in any other manner, than 
as the repeating a form of words. It never in his 
life entered into his head, to think of devotion as a 
state.of the heart, as a temper that is to grow and 
increase like our reason and judgment, and to be 
formed in us by sucha diligent use of proper means, 
as are necessary to form any other wise habit 
of mind. 

And it is for want of this, that he has been con- 
_tent all his life, with the bare letter of prayer, and 
eagerly bent upon entering into the spirit of hea- 
then poets and orators. 

And it is much to be lamented, that numbers of 
scholars are more or less chargeable with this ex- 
cessive folly ; so negligent of improving their devo- 
tion, and so desirous of other poor accomplishments, 
as if they thought it a nobler talent, to be able to 
write an epigram in the turn of Martial, than tolive, 
and think, and pray to God in the spirit of St. Aus- 
un. : ; , 

And yet if'you were to ask Mundanus, and Clas- 
sicus, or any;man of business or learning, whether 
piety is not the highest perfection of man, or devo- 
tion the greatest attainment in the world, they must 
‘both be forced to answer in the affimative, or else 
give up the truth of the gospel. 

i7. Devotion is nothing else, but right appre- 
hensions and right affections towards God. 

All practices therefore that improve our true ap- 
prehensions of God, all ways of life that tend to 
nourish, raise, and fix our affections upon him, are 


Aug |, 


* 


’ A SERIOUS CALL 
to be reckoned so many helps and means of deyo- 


tion. Bok Wes MP Ra Het 
As prayer is the proper fuel of this holy flame, so 

we must use all our care to give prayer its full pow- 

er; as by alms, self-denial, frequent retirements; 


and holy readings, composing forms for ourselves, 


or using the best we can get, adding length of time, 
and oberving hours of prayer; changing, improy- 
ing, and sulting our devotions to the condition of 
our lives, and the state of our hearts. — s 
' Those who have most leisure, seem more especi 

all called to amore eminent observance of this ; 
and they who by the necessity of their state, have 
but little time to employ thus, must make the best 
use of that little they have. * 

18. There is one thing more I would advise; 
and that is, to begin your prayers with a psalm.’ 

I do not mean that you should read over a psalm ; 
but that you should chant or sing one. - 

The difference between singing and reading a 
psalm, will be easily understood, if you consider 
the difference between reading and singing a com- 
mon song that you like. Whilst you only read it 
you only like it; but as soon as you sing it, you feel 
the same spirit within you, that there seems to be in 
the words. lie es eer 

You will perhaps say, you cannot}sing. This 
objection might be of weight, if you were 


od 


your heart will neither want a yoice, nor 
ahs 


19. The union of soul and body is NO! 


i til 
oi 


er 


TO A HOLY LIFE: 149 


of their substantes, as we see bodies united and 
mixed together, but consists solely in the mutual 
power that they have of acting upon one another. 

If'two persons were in such a state of depend- 
ance upon one another, that neither of them could 
act, or move, or think, or feel, or suffer, or desire 
any thing, without putting the other into the same 
eandition, one might properly say, that they were 
in a state of strict union, although their substances 
were not united together. : 

Now this is the union of the soul and body; the 
substance of the one cannot be mixed or united with 
the other; but they are held together in such a state 
of union, that all the actions and sufferings of the 
one, are at the same time the actions and sufferings 
of the other. The soul has no thought or passion, 
but the body is concerned in it; the body has no: 
action or motion, but what in some degree, affects 
the soul. 

Now, as it is the sole will of God, that is the 
cause of all the powers and effects which yousee in 
in the world; as the sun gives light and heat, not 
because it has any natural power of so doing ; as it 
is fixed in a certain place, and other bodies moving 
about it ; not because it is in the nature of the sun to 
stand still, and in the nature of other bodies to move 
about it; but merely because it is the will of God, 
that they should be in such a state. As the eye is 
the organ, or instrument of seeing, not because the 
skins, and coats, and humours of the eye, have a 
natural power of giving sight: As the ears are the 
organs, or instruments of hearing, not because the 
make of the ear has any natural power over sounds, — 
but merely because it is the will of God, that see- 
ing and hearing should be thus received : So it is 
the sole willof God, that is the cause of this union 
betwixt the soul and the body. 

20. New if'you rightly apprehend this short ac- 

a n 2 


¢ 
s - 


; 
| 
j 
2 
: 


150 A SERIOUS Gun. . 
count of the union of the soul and body,” you will 


see a great deal into the reason of all the outward 


parts of religion. : art 

This union of our souls and bodies, is the rea- 
son both why we have so little and so much power 
over ourselves. It is owing to this, that we “have 
so little power over our souls; for as we cannot 
prevent the effects of external objects upon our 
bodies, as we cannot command outward causes’; 
so we cannot always command the inward state of 


our minds: because, as outward objects act upon 


our bodies without our leave, so our bodies act 
upon our minds by the laws of the vital union.— 
And thus you see it is owing to this union, that we 
have so little power over ourselves. 

On the other hand, ‘it is owing to this union, that 
we have so much power over ourselves. For as 
our souls in a great measure depend upon our bo- 
dies : and as we have great power over these; as 
we can erie bodies, and remove. ourselves 
from objects that inflame our passions; so we have 
a great power over the inward state of our souls. 
Again, as the outward acts of reading, praying, sing- 
ing, and the like, have an effect upon the soul ; so 
by being n asters of these outward, bodily actions, 


re, 


we have great power over the inward state of the» 


heart. i eh . 
And thus it is owing to this union, taupe so 

much power over ourselves. ee wi" 
Now from this you may see the benefit of singing 


psalms, and of all the outward acts of religion; for 
if the body has so much power over the soul, all 


such bodily actions as affect the soul, are of great 
weight in religion, because they are proper to sup- 
port that spirit, which is the true worship of ‘God. 

21. This doctrine may be easily capped too 5 
for by calling in too many outward means of wor- 
ship, it may degenerate into upon But 


. 


te 


. i> 
y, mi) 
TO A HOLY LIFE. 151 


some have fallen into the contrary extreme. Be- 
cause religion is justly placed in the heart, they re- 
nounce vocal prayer and other outward acts of wor- | - 
ship, and resolve all religion into a quietism, or mys- ~~ 
tic intercourse with God in silence. | 
But since we are neither all soul nor all body: 
seeing-none of our actions are either separately of 
the soul, or separately of the body; if we would 
truly prostrate ourselves before God, we must use 
our bodies to postures of lowliness; if we desire 
true fervours of devotion, we must make pray- 
er the frequent labour of our lips ; if we would feel 
inward joy and delight in God, we must practise all 
the outward acts of it, and~ make our voices call 
upon our hearts. i i 
Now therefore, youmay plainly see the reason 
of singing psalms; it is because outward actions 
are necessary to support inward tempers. : 
22. I have been the longer upon this head, be- 
cause of its importance to true relies »Fo 
is no state of mind so excellent, as tk 


An uneasy, complaining spirit, which is some- 
times the spirit of those that seem careful of reli- 
gion, is yet of all tempers the most contrary to re- 
ligion ; for it disowns that God which it pretends to 
adore. For he suificiently disowns God who does: 
not adore him asa Being of infinite goodness. 

If a man does not believe that all the world is). 
_ a8 God’s family, where nothing bappens by chance, — . 

but all is guided and directed by the care and prov=- 
idence of a Being that is all love and goodness to” 
all his creatures; if a man does not believe this: 
from his heart, he cannot be said to believe in God. 
And yet he that has this faith, has faith enough to 
be ee to God. For he that believes 


om tk 


152 nti SERIOUS CALL . 


that every thing happens to him for the best, can- 
not complain for the want of something that is bet» 
ter. . Oh oo paw tay 
~ olf therefore you liye in murmurings and com- . 
plaints, it is not because you are a weak, infirm 
creature, but itis bécause you want the. first princi- 
ple of religion, a right belief in God. fen as thank- 
fulness is an express acknowledgment of the’ good- 
ness of God towards you; so repinings and com- 
plaints are as plain accusations of God’s want of 
goodness towards you. fate a pope? 
On the other hand, would you know. wh is the 
greatest saint in the world? It is not he who prays 
most, or fasts most; it is not he who gives most 
alms, or is most eminent for temperance, chastity, 

: or justice; but it is he who is always thankful to 
God, who. wills every thing that God willeth, who 
receives every thing as an instance of God’s good- 

heart always ready to praise God 


yer and devotion, fastings and repentance, 
.and retirement, all sacraments and or- 
inances, are but so many means to render the soul, 
thus conformable to the will of God, and to fill it 
with thankfulness and praise for every thing that 
comes from God. This is the perfection of all vir-» 
‘tues ; and all virtues that do not tend to it, or pro- 
ceed from it, are but so many false ornaments of a 
soul not converted unto God. hae 

23. If any would tell you the shortest surest way. 
to all happiness, he must tell you to thank and 
praise God for every thing that happens to you,— 


; For whatever seeming calamity happens, if you 
: thank and praise God for it, you turn it into a bless-' 
, ing. Could you therefore work miracles, you could 


not do more for yourself, than by this thowk fakin 
it; for it heals with.a word speaking,"and turns all. 
that it touches into happiness. « - ct 


a 


biol ial -. 4 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 153 


If therefore you would be so true to your inter- 
est, as to propose this thankfulness as the end of 


all your religion ; if you would but settle it in your _ 
mind, that this was the state that you was to aim © 


at by all your devotions, you would then have 
something plain and visible to walk by, and might 
judge of your improvement in piety. For so far 
as you renounce all motions of your own will, and 
seek for no other happiness, but in the thankful 
reception of every thing that happens to you, so 
far you have advanced in piety. 

And although this be the highest temper that you 
ean aim at; yet it is not tied to any time, or place, 
or great occasion, but is always in your power, and 
may be the exercise of every day. For the com- 
mon events of every day are sufficient to discover 
and exercise this temper, and may plainly shew 
you how far you are governed aall your actions 
by this thankful spirit. 

24, It may perhaps be objected; 
benefit of this practice is apparent 
so fit for private devotions, since i ; 
performed without making our devotions pul : 

It is answered, First, That great numbers of peo- 
ple have it in their power to be as privalgeasyibey 
please ; such persons therefore are excluded - 
this excuse. 

Secondly, Numbers of people, are by the neces- 
sity of their state, as servants, apprentices, pris- 
oners, and families in small houses, forced to be 
continually in the presence of somebody or other. 

Now are such persons to neglect their prayers, 


because they cannot pray without being seen? Are’ 


they not rather obliged to be more exact in them, 
that others may not be witnesses of their neglect, 
and so corrupted by their example ? , 
_ And what is here said of devotion, may surely be 
said of singing a psalm. 
Ri 


Lest 


,to be always in the sight of others, be more afra 
'» of being seen to neglect, thanvof being seen 


fe ied 


‘154 A SERIOUS CALE 


~ The rule is this: Do not pray, that you may be 
seen of men; but if your confinement obliges yo 


have recourse to prayer. wig 

Thirdly, Either people can use such privacy in 
this practice as to have no hearers, or they cannof. 
If they can, then this objection vanishes as to them ; 
and if they cannot, they should consider their con- 
finement, and the necessities of their state, as the 
confinement of a prison; and they have an excel- 
Tent pattern to follow; they may imitate St. Paul 
and Silas, who ‘sang praises to God in prison,” 
though we are expressly told, that the prisoners 
heard them. They did not refrain this kind of de- 
votion for fear of being heard by others. If there- 
fore any one is in the same necessity, either in 
prison or out of prison, what can he do better than 
to follow this example ? . ; 
 Fourthl he privacy of our prayers is not de- 
stroyed by our having, but by our seeking witness- 
es of them. 

_ If therefore nobody hears you but those you can- 
not separate yourself from, you are as much in se- 
cret, and “ your Father who seeth in secret,” will 
reward your secrecy, as if you were seen 


Dat , ee 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 155 


CHAPTER XIfl. 


¢ " 

© Recommending devotions at nine o’clock in the morn- sR 
ing, called in Scripture the third hour of the day. $4 
The subject of these prayers may be Humility. 


_ 1. [ am now come to another hour of prayer, ~ a 
which in Scripture is called the third hour of ae. 
day ; but according to our way of numbering the 
hours, it is called the ninth hour of the morning. _ 

If the practice of the saints in all ages, ‘if the 
customs of the pious Jews, and primitive Chris- 
tians be of any force with us, we have authority 
enough to persuade us, to make this hour a con- 
stant season of devotion. 

2. Ihave in the last chapter, laid before you the 
excellency of praise and thanksgiving, and recom- 
mended that as the subject of your first devotions 
in the morning. + ‘ 

And because humility is the life and soul of piety, - 
the ground and security of all holy affections, this 
may be the subject of your devotions at this hour. 

This virtue is so essential to the right state of 
our souls, that there is no pretending to a reasona- 
ble or pious life without it. We may as well t 
to see without eyes, or live without breath, 
live in the spirit of religion without the — 
humility. 

But although it is the soul and essence of all re-. 
ligious duties, yet is it, generally speaking, the 
Jeast understood, the least regarded, the least in- 
tended, the least desired and sought after, of all 
other virtues. ~ 

No people have more occasion to be afraid of 
the approaches of pride, than those who have made 

some advances in a pious ae” For pride can 

5 7 . 


- 
* 


ele WES oe. “Re. *); —_ 
. * ‘ pa! eee * 
‘156 A, SERIOUS CALL 

grow as well upon our virtues as our vices, and 

steal upon us on all occasions. 

Every good thought we have, every good ac-) 

tion we do, lays us open to pride. ae 

- It is not only the beauty of our persons, the ¢ 

of fortune, our natural talents, and the distinctions 
f life ; but even our devotions and alms, our fast- 


. ings and humiliations, éxpose us to fresh tempta- 
ns of this spirit. e. 
~ And it is for this reason, that I so earnestly ad- 
ys devout person to the exercise of humil- 
% e may not fall a sacrifice to his te pro- 
res Ose virtues, which are to save mankind 
RY rom destruction. 
-Asall virtue is founded in truth; so humility is a 
true sense of our weakness, misery and sin, 


The weakness of our state appears from our ina- 
bility to do any thing of ourselves. In our natural 
state we are entirely without any power; we are 
indeed active beings, but can only act by a power, 
that is every moment lent us from God. _ 

‘e have no more power of our own to move a 


n we speak a word, we feel no more power 
in Ourselves to do it, than we feel ourselves able to 
' eidead. For we act no more within our 
“own power, or by our own strength, when we 
speak a word, or make a sound, than the apostles 
acted within their own power, or by their own 
strength, when a word, from their mouth cast out 
devils, and cured diseases. - : 
As it was solely the power of God that enabled 
them to speak to such purposes, so it is solely the 
ower of God that enables us to speak at all. 
This is the dependent, helpless povert 
_ state: which is @ great reason for humilit 
~ since we neither are, nor can do any thin 


y 


— * 5 meget 4 
ad q 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 15 A 
selyes ; to be proud of any thing that we aré, or.of o! 
_ any thing that'we can do, and to ascribe glory iv 
ourselves for these things, has the guilt both of” 
+ stealing andlying. It has the guilt of stealing,as ~ 
it gives to ourselves those things which.only beleng 
to God. It has the guilt of lying, as it is denying 
the truth of our state, and pretending to be som 
thing that we are not. a. 
3. The misery of our condition appears in this 
that we use these,borrowed powers of our nature, 
the torment and yexation of ourselves, and o 
fellow-ereatures. - as. Sah 


, eo Py eee 


o 
og 3 
ew 
a | 
yy © 
ad 
a 
= O 
(o) 
55 
2) Og = 
we betes 
2S 
o ” 
onal 
a. 
5 0 
8 w 
¥e| 
a} 
Ler | 
D a 
rs 
m= QO. 
5 
eo, 
==] —T 
2 
-— 
bal") 
5 
o 
“i 
Go 
ite 
a8 
Ms 
a: 


less passions, and unreasonable contentions. —_- 

Let any man but look back upon his own) life 
and see what use he has made of his reason.” What 
foolish passions, what vain thoughts, what needless 

labours, what extravagant projects, have taken up 
the greatest part of his life. How foolish he has 
been in his words and conversation ; how seldom 
he bas been able to please himself, and how oiten 
he has displeased others ; how often he has changed 
his counsels, hated what he loved, and loved what 
he hated ; how ofien he has been enraged and trans- 
ported at trifles, pleased and displeased with the 
very same things, and constantly changing from one 
vanity to another. Leta man but take this view 
of his own life, and he will see cause enough to 
.confess that pride was not made for man. 

~ Let him but consider, that if the world knew all 

tee oO. ™ Be. 


| it ae 
| im A SERIOUS cma 


: . that of him, which he knows of himself ;i 

what vanity and passions govern his ins 
what secret tempers sully and corrupt his best ac- 
: tions, he would have no more pretence to be honour- 
rt 
s 
* 


ed and admired for his goodness and wisdom, than ~ 
a rotten and distempered body to be loved and ad- 
eS mired for its health and comeliness. 
ae 4. This is so true, and so known to the Ihesits of 
almost all people, that nothing would < ap ear more. 
dreadful to them, than to have their hearts thus 
fully discovered to the eyes of a atea | 
And perhaps there are very few ] people: githe 
world, who would not rather ide to die, t 
have all their secret follies, the vanity of ieie 
minds, the frequency of their vain and disorderly 
passions, their uneasiness, hatreds, envies, and vex- 
ations, made known unto the world. 

“And shall pride be entertained” ina heart thus 
conscious of its own miserable behaviour. — 

Shall a creature in such a condition, that. he 
could not support himself under the shame of be- 
ing known to the world in his real state; shall such — 

RS: because his shame is only known. to 
God, oly angels, and his own conscience; shall 
he, in the’sight of God and holy angels, dare to be 
vain and proud of himself? 
ae 5. If to this we add the shame and guilt of sin, 
we shall find stilla greater reasen for r humility. 

No creature that had lived in innocence, cit 
_ have thereby got any pretence for pride ; because 
as a creature, all that it is, or has, or does] is from 

God, and therefore the honour of all that belouee to 

it, is only due toGod: ‘ 

But if'a creature that is a sinner, deserving no 

thing but pains and punishments for the shan 

abuse of his powers; if such a creature’ 
glory for any thing that he is, or does, he 
be said to glory | in his shame. — 


wee ; 


fe 


ie ie a on Nd 
“ z 


- cee ee 
7 é poe ae 
-s 


; 
TO A HOLY LIFES 159 


~ Now, how monstrous and shameful the nature of 
sin is, is sufficiently apparent from that great atone- 
ment that is necessary to cleanse us from the guilt 
of it. ) 

Nothing less has been required to take away 
the guilt of our sins, than the sufferings and death 
of the Son of God, Had he not taken our nature 
upon him, our nature had been forever separated 
Sty God, and incapable of ever appearing before 

im. Sa 

And is there any room for pride, whilst we are 
partakers ofsuch a natureasthis? |. 

Have our.sins rendered us so abominable to 
him that made us that he could not so much as re- 
ceive our prayers, or admitour repentance, till the 
Son of God made himself man, and became a sufier- 
ing advocate for our whole race; and can we, in 
this state, pretend to high thoughts of ourselves? 
Shall we presume to take delight in our own worth, 
who are not worthy so much as to ask pardon for 
cur sins, without the mediation and intercession of 
the Son of God? © 


Thus deep is the foundation of humility laid, in” 


these deplorable circumstances of our condition ; 
which shew, that it is as great.an offence against 
truth for a man to lay claim to any degrees of glo- 
ry, as to pretend to the honour of creating himself. 
If man will boast of any thing as his own, he must 
boast of his misery and sin; for there is nothing else 
but this, that is his own property. : 

6. Turn your eyes towards heaven, and fancy 
that you saw what is doing there; that you saw 
cherubim and seraphim, and all the glorious inhab- 
itants of that place, all united in one work; not 
‘seeking glory from one another, not labouring for 
their own advancement, not contemplating their 
own perfections, not singing tbe own praises, not 
valuing themselves, and despising others, but all 
; , é _ ’ 


~ 


‘160 \ A SERIOUS C bad 


Bis oh employed j in one and the same work 
i one ! and the same joy ; ‘ casting down their cro: 
ore the throne of God, giving g glory, | nd ' 

Moh OU and power to him alone.” | Rey. iv. 10, 11. ua om 
Then turn your eyes to the fallen world, and cone 

, sider how unreasonable and odious it must ‘be, or 
such p poor worms, such miserable s sinners, ta take de- 
\ light in their own fancied glories, whilst he highest 
_. and most glorious sons of heaven seek fo 


seek for no other 
: greatness and honour, but that of ascribing. all hon- 
our, and greatness, and glory to God alone ? Ee ths 
’ Pride is only the disorder of the fallen wi Ww orld, i it 
has no place amongst other beings; it can ea sub- 
¥ sist where ignorance and sensuality, lies and false- 
hood, lusts and impurity reign. - 
Let a man, when he is most delighted with his 
own figure, contemplate our blessed Lord stretched 
out, and nailed upon a cross ; and then let him con- 
es how absurd it must be, for a heart full of pride 
and vanity, to pray to God, through the sufferings 
of a crucified Saviour. 
: ‘These are the reflections you are often to medi- 
} tate upon, that you may walk before God in such 
a spirit of humility, as becomes the weak, miserable, 
i and sinful state of all that are descended from fallen 
ay Adam. , 9 
7. But you must not content yourself with this, 
as if you was therefore humble, because you ac- 
pee the reasonableness of humility, and de- 
clare against pride. 
‘ ‘You a" peer yourself to be devout, be- 
dgment you approved of prayers, 
mm pipe in favour of devotion. . 
gine themselves hu 


tions Bi t a 10 a" 
Czcus isa Act man, of ae birth, and a 


Mere 


—_——— co rt Z ea : 
A HOLY TIFE. 161 

parts; ii very full of every thing that he says, or 

does and never imagines it possible for such a judg- ; 


» ment as his to be mistaken. He can bear no con- 
tradiction, and discovers the weakness of your un- 
derstanding, as soon as ever youopposehim. Ca- | 
cus would have been very religious, but that he al- 

ways thought he was so. 

There is nothing so odious to Cecus as a proud 
man ; and the misfortune is, that in this he is so very 
quick-sighted, that he discovers in almost every 
body, some strokes of vanity. 

On the other hand, he is exceeding fond of humble 
and modest persons. Humility, says he, is so ami- 
able a quality, that it forces our esteem wherever 
we meet with it. There is no possibility of despi- 
sing the meanest person that hasit, or ofesteeming — 
the greatest man that wants it. 

Czcus no more suspects himself to be proud, than 
he suspects his want of sense. And the reason of 
it is because he always finds himself so in love with 
humility, and so enraged at pride. ) 

It is very true, Czecus, you speak sincerely, when 
you say you love humility, and abhor pride. You 
are no hypocrite, you speak the true sentiments of 
your mind; but then take this along with you, you 
only love humility, and hate pride in other people. 
You never once in your life thought of any other 
humility, or of any other pride, than that which you 
have seen in other people. yr 

8. The case of Cecus is a common case ; many 
people live in all the instances of pride, angeyet, 
never suspect themselves, because they dislike 
proud people, and are pleased with humility and 
modesty, wherever they find them. ee 

All their speeches in favour of humility, and a adit 
their railings against pride, are looked upon a: 

fects of their own humble spirit. | ar 

Whereas in truth, these are so far from being 


el. 


’ q 2 : ; 4 5 er. 
“ - ~~ ce Hee, 


162 A SERIOUS CALL 


wiih a efor pou rtair 
bs this opinion self, and that you cannot put. 


Ta 
i 
eee : 


Si of humility, that they are ere 2 
want of i it. 


OP bE. * 
ae fuller of pridé any o imself, the — 
patient will-he be at eoallecpaanet s 


fit in other people. And the less. humility any 
Binet a aay in his own mind, the more will’/he demand 


it in other people. — oct 4 Tig a, 


You must therefore act. don a = aquieecele ry mea- 
sure, a and reckon: yourself only se foeduataas as you 
impose every instance of humility upon*yourself, and 
never call for it in other pe le. So far an enemy 
to pride, as you never spare it in eon nor ever 
censure it in other persons  .74irte ale ta Maen 

The loving humility is of no benefit to you, but. $0 
far as all your own thoughts, words, and.actions are 


governed by it. And the hating hbo does you 


> | 


no good but so far as you hate t ur any de- 


“gre your heart. 


Now in order to set out in the practice of <4 


‘ty, you must take it for granted that you are proud, 


that you have been so all your life. 
You should believe also that it is your greatest 
weakness, that your heart is most subject to it, that” 
it isso constantly stealing upon you, you have rea- 
son to suspect its approaches 1 in all your. actions. 
there is no one vice hayeenoey deeply root- 
ed in our nature, or that re es such constant 
nourishment from almost every thing that we think 
‘here being hardly any thing in the world, 
use, or any action or dut iv: of life, 
means or other to take hold of 
ne soever we-begin to offer 
e can os be surer of ai 


nd it tepiaeea ble to ent ertain 


» yourself eet those that want to be cured 4 | 


co r 4 a HOLY LIFE. 163 


ide, ae be as sure, as if an "an el from 
eaven had told you, that you have not only much, 
but all your humility to seek. wed 
For you can have no greater sign of a.confirmed 
pride, than when you think that you are humble 
enough. He that thinks he loves God enough, 
shews himself to be an entire stranger to that holy 
passion; so he that thinks he has humility’ enough, 
shews that he is not so much as a -beginner in the 
practice of true humility. 

9. Every person therefore, when he first applies 
himself to the exercise of humility, must consider 
himself as a learner, who is to learn something 
that is contrary to all his former tempers and hab- 
its of mind. fs 

He has not only much to learn, but he has also 
a great deal to unlearn ; ; He is to forget and lay 
aside his own spirit, which has been a long while 
fixing and forming itself; he must forget, and de- 
part from abundance of passions and opinions; 
which the fashion and vogue, and spirit of the 
world, have made natural to him. 

He must lay aside the opinions and passions 
which he has received from the world, because the 

vogue and fashion of the world, by which 
been carried away as in a torrent, before we & 
passr ‘ight judgments of the value of things, is utterly 
contrary to humility. 

Ther devil is called in a the prince of, 
this world, because he has grea power in it, hey . 
cause many of its rules and prin 
by this evil spirit to separate us 

an, our return to happines SS. 
’ Now according to the spirit of this world, whose 
‘corrupt air we have all breathed, thereyare 
things that_pass for great, and honourabk 
n sirable, which yet are so far from being: ; 


~ to be looked on with admiration, to subdue « 


hy ia $ 
164 A SERIOUS CALL . y 
true gre atness and honour of our na 
the not desiring them. 


ound in wealth, to have fine’ hous 
ich clothes, to be attended with s lendor and equ 
e, to be beautiful in our persons, to have titles. 

dignity, to be above our fellow creatures, to 
command the bows and obeisance of othe er people, 
all that 
oppose us, to set out ourselves in as much splendor 
as we can, to live highly anc ‘maguificiently, to eat 
and drink, and delight ourselves in the most Co: 
manner, these are the great, the! honourable, the 
sirable things, to which the spirit of the world it aa 
the eyes of all people. And many a man is afraid 
of not engaging in the pursuit of these things, lest 
the world should take him fora fool. 

10. The bit of the geepel is y the his- 
tory of Christ’s conquest over the spirit of the “hiew 
And the number of true Christians, is only the 
ber of those, who following the Spirit of Christ, ha ve ’ 
lived contrary to this spivit of the world. 

olf any man hath not the spirit of Christ, nar is” 
none of his. Again, Whosoever is born of God 
overcometh the world. Set your affections on 

above, and not on things of the earth; for ye 
are @ lead, -and your life is bid with Christ in 2 God: 7 
This is the language of the whole New Testament. 
This is the mark of christianity; you are to be 


~ dead, that is, dead to the spirit and temper of the 


world: and live @ new life in the Spirit of Jesus 


Chiists’ 


But notndthetahding! the plainness of tHege do 
trines, most Christians live and die slaves to” 
customs and tempers of the world? of 
ny people swell with pride and vanit 
ch things as they would not value at oe 

y are admired in the world? 


hs 


¢ TO A HOLY LIFE. 165 


- 


_ Would a man take ten years more drudgery in 3 

- business to add two horses more to his coach, but 
that he knows, that the world admires a coach and ;: 
six ? How fearful are many people of having their» =~ 
houses poorly furnished, or themselves meanly 
clothed, for this only reason, lest the world should 
place them amongst low and mean people ? 

_ Many a man would drop a resentment, and for- 
give anaftront, but that he is afraid, if he should, 
the. world would not forgive him. 4 

How many would practise Christian temperance j 
and sobriety, were it not for the censure which the ? 
world passes upon sucha life? P 

Others have frequent intentions of living up. to 
the rules of Christian perfection, but they are fright- 
a by considering what the world would say of 
them. ee : 

11. Thus they dare not attempt to be eminent in 
the sight of God, for fear of being little in the eyes : 
ofthe world. | 

From this quarter arises the greatest difficulty of i 
humility, because it cannot subsist in any mind, but 
so far as it is dead to the world. * 

You can make nostand against the assaults of 
pride, humility can have nq place in your soul, till ' 
you stop the power of the world over you, and re- : 
solve against a blind obedience to its laws. 

For indeed as great as the power of the world is, 
it is all built upon a blind obedience. . 

Ask who you will, learned or, unlearned, every 
one seems to know and confess, that the general 
temper and spirit of the world, is nothing else but 
humour, folly, and extravagance. 

Who will not own that the wisdom of philoso 
poarety of religion, was always confined to.a’sp 
Dumber? And is not this expressly owning 
common spirit and temper of the world,j8 

peing to the wisdom of philosophy, no 

ty of religion ? 


. 


*e 


vor: ’ a 

’ 

too . _A SERIOUS CALL ‘ 
- gine Therefore you should not think it a hai ying, 

in order to be humble, you must withdraw your — 


-- your judgments ac- 
Wel 


b terity see that your dust lies under such a stone ; 
and when that is done, all is done. Your place is 
re filled up by another, the world is just in the same” 
‘ state it was, you are blotted out of its sight, and as 
an much forgotten by the world, ss if you had_ never 


lost, and 
for their f 
: whit as well without them, and is just as merry as it 
' was, when they were init. mera 
Is it therefore worth your wie lose the small- 


est degree of virtue, for the sake of pleasing ao bad 


ah + a 
row 
~ 
Qu 
15 
oO 
5 
oO 

DS 5 
Mt 

ioe) n 
° 
8 
@ 
re 
os 
jor 
=] 
ion 
oe 
oO 
Se 
° 
=p 
= 
pw 
o 
&. 
eo. 


a master, and so false a friend as the world 1 
Is it worth your while to bow the’ knee 
an idol as this, that so soon will have neith 

nor or a heart to regard you, insteac 


‘ iy ing thatgreat, and holy, and mighty God, th 


: 


Vas 


TO A HOLY LIFE. . 


Will you let the fear of a false world, that has n 


# 


Ss 


* 
on 


love for you, keep you from the fear of thatGod \ . 


who has only created you that he may love and 
bless you to all eternity ? (Lae 
13. Consider our blessed Lord’s words: “ They 
are not.of this world, as I am not of this world.”— 
This is the state of christianity with regard to this 
world. If you are not thus out of, and contrary to 
the world, you want the distinguishing mark of 
christianity : you do not belong to Christ, but by 
being out of the world, as he was out of it. 
e may deceive ourselves, if we please, with 
softening comments upon these words, but they 
are, and will be understood in their first simplicity 
and plainness,,. by every one that reads them in the 
‘same spirit that our blessed Lord spoke them.-— 
And to understand them in any lower meaning, is 
to let carnal wisdom explain away that doctrine, 
by which itself was.to be destroyed. | 
Christianity has placed us out of, and above the 
world; and we fall from our calling, as soon as we 
fall into the tempers of the world. 
Now as it was the spirit of the world that nailed 
our blessed Lord to the cross; so every ma that 
has the Spirit of Christ, that opposes the world as 


he did, will certainly be crucified by the world some 
way or other. ' 

For christianity still lives in the same world 
that Christ did; and these two will be utter ene- 
one till the kingdom of darkness is entirely at an 
end. th 

Had you lived with our Saviour as his true dis- 
ciple, you had then been hated as he was; and if 
you now live in his spirit, the world will be the 
same enemy to you now, that it was to him then. — 


» 14, “ If ye were of the world,” saith our blessed 


make all his*servants partakers of his own eterni- — 
: "V om 


ve ee ( th A ee 


ee Bt . 
: 168 _ & SERIOUS CALL 
Lord, “ the world would love it own; yb 


ye are not of the world, but I have ‘chosen 


‘the world, therefore the world hateth you.”— 
ohn Xv. 19. Sak, ae er” 
fe are apt to lose the trie meaning of thesé 


words, by considering them only as an historical 
description of something that was ‘the state of our 
__, Saviour and his disciples at that time. | But this is 
_ reading the’scripture as a dead letter: for they ©: 
actly describe the state of true Christians at this, 
and all other times, to the end of the world. © 
For as true Christianity is n hingelse ba the 
‘Spirit of Christ; so whetfieeen at spirit appear in 
the person of Christ himself, or his apostles, or fol- 
lowers in any age, it is the same thing ; whoever 
_ hath his Spirit, will be hated, despised, and con= 
- demned by babe world as he was. a 3 
- For the world illalways lovee, and none 
but its own: this is as certain’a id unchangable, 
as the contrariety betwixt light and darkness, 
- 15. You will perhaps say, that the world is now 
become Christian, at least that part of it where we 
live; and therefore the world is not now to be con- 
sidered in that state of opposition to Spagenity, 
ae $3 


la ee. ee ame 


= 


as when it was heathen. a Heir’ 
It is granted, the world now professeth Chris- 
_ tianity.» But will any one say, that this Christian 
3 world is of the Spirit of Christ ? Are its general 
- tempers the tempers of Christ? Are the passions of 
‘sensuality, self love, pride, covetousness, ambition, 
and vain glory, less contrary to the spirit of the 
gospel, now they are among Ch stians than when 
they were among heathens as , will 

the tempers and passions of the heathe 

lost and gone? %s "i 

16. And indeed the world, by profes 
 tianity, is So far from being a less dange 
than it was before, that it has by its favou 


2 Sar PA 


TO A HOLY LIFE: 169 


~ ed more Christians than ever it did by the most vio- 
Jent persecution. 

We must therefore be so far from considering the . 
worldas in a state of less enmity, and opposition to 
Christianity, than it was in the first times of the 
gospel, that we must guard against it as a greater 
and more dangerous enemy now, than it was in 
those times.- ; 


Tt is a greater enemy, because it has greater — 


power over Christians by its favours, riches, hon- 
ours, rewards, and protections, than it had by the 
fire and fury of its persecutions. 

Ig isa more dangerous enemy, by having lost its 
appearance of enmity.’ Its outward profession of 
Christianity makes it no longer considered as an 
enemy; and therefore the generality of people are 
‘easily persuaded to resign themselves up to be 
governed and directed by it. Pa es 

How many consciences are kept at quiet, upon 
no other foundation, but because they sin under the 
authority of the Christian world? Pe 

How many directions of the gospel lie by unre- 
garded ? And how unconcernedly do particular per- 
sons read them, for no other reason, but because 
they seem unregarded by the Christian world ? 

How many compliances do people make to the 
Christian world, without any hesitation, or remorse ? 
which if they had been required of them only by 
heathais, would have been refused, as contrary 
to the tioliness of Christianity ! ' 

Wha could be content with seeing how contrary 
his life jis to the gospel, but because he sees that he 
lives as the Christian world doth ? 

17. Ifhere is nothing therefore that a Christian 
ought more constantly to- guard against, than the 
authority; of the Christian world. i 

And ai'l the passages of Scripture, which repre- 
sent the »world as contrary to Christianity, which 
o his F bs ae 

ie ih 


ane © 


a 


PUSS Le a a 


' , a eee 


170 A SERIOUS CALL 


require our separation from it, as from a monster of 
iniquity, are to be taken in the strict sense, in rela- 
tion to the present world. bo ae 

For the change that the world has undergone has 
only altered its methods, but not lessened its power 
of destroying religion. ra ae ee 
~ Whilst pride, sensuality, covetousness, and ambi- 
tion had only the authority of the heathen world, 
Christians were thereby made more intent upon 
contrary virtues. But when pride, sensuality, cov- 
etousness, and ambition, have the authority of the 
Christian world ; then private Christians are in the 
utmost danger, not only of being shamed out of'the 
practice, but of losing the very notion of the piety 
of the gospel. “Tho 

There is therefore hardly any possibility of sav-. 
ing yourself from the present world but by ¢on- 
sidering it as the same enemy to all true holiness, 
as it is represented in the Scriptures ; and by agsur- 
ing yourself that it is as dangerous to conform to 
its tempers and passions, now it is Christiap, as 
when it was heathen. | re. 

Need a man do more to make his soul unjfit-for 
the mercy of God than by being greedy and jambi- 
tious of honour? yet how can you renouncj2 this 
temper without renouncing the spirit and temper of 
the world, in which you now live ? 

How cana man be made more incapable) of the 
Spirit of Christ, than by a wrong value for 
and yet how can he be more wrong in his 
it, than by following the authority of the C 
world? +o) hal 

Nay, in every order and station of I 
of learning or business, either in church 9) 
you cannot act up to the spirit of religion, 
renouncing the most general temper and 
of those, who are of the same order and 
as yourself, 


. 


¥ - 
TO A HOLY LIFE. 171 


And though human prudence seems to talk migh- 
ty wisely about the necessity of avoiding particu- 
larities, yet he that dares not be so weak as to be 
particular, will be obliged to avoid the most sub- 
stantial duties of Christian piety, _ 4 

These reflections will, | hope, help you to break 
through those difficulties, and resist those tempta- 
tions, which the authority and fashion of the world 
have raised against the practice of Christian hu- 
inility. 


7 


CHAPTER XIV. 


s 


Shewing how the education which men generally re- 
cetve, makes the doctrines of humility difficult to 
bepractised. The spirit of a better education rep- 
resented in the character of Paternus. 


1. Awortuer difficulty in the practice of humility, 
arises from our education. We are corruptly edu- 
cated, and then committed to take our course in a 
corrupt world: so that it is no wonder, if examples 
of great piety are so seldom seen. 
Great part of the world are undone, by being 
born and bred in families that have no religion. 
But this is not the thing 1 now mean , the educa- 
_ tion that I here, intend, is such as children general- 
ly receive from virtuous parents, and learned tu- 


tors and governors. 

Haalies cdutinised perfect, as God created the 
first man, perhaps the perfection of our nature had 
been a sufficient self-instruction for every one.— 
But as sickness and diseases have created the ne- 
cessity of medicines and physicians, so the disor- 
der of our rational nature has introduced the neces- 
sity of education and tutors. 


ae Ba eh 


42 A SERIOUS CALE: 


And as the only end of the physician is to restore 
nature to its own state; so the ‘lysed ots. 
tion is to restore our rational nature to its proper 
state. Education therefore is to be considered as 

‘reason borrowed at second hand, which is, as far 
as it can, to supply the loss of original perfection. 

_ And as physic may justly be called the art of re- 
storing health, so education should be considered 
in no other light, than as the art of recovering to 
man the use of his reason, weak he et 

2. Now as the instruction of every art or science, 
is founded upon the wisdom, experience, and max- 
ims of the several great men, that have laboured in 
it; so that right use of our reason, which young 
people should be called to by their education, is 
nothing but the best experience, and finest reason- 
ings of men, that have devoted themselves to the 

improvement of human nature. __ a. 

_All therefore that great saints, and dying men, 
when the fullest of light and conviction, and after 
the highest improvement of their reason, haye said 
of the necessity of piety, of the exeellency of vir- 
tue, of the emptiness of riches, of the vanity of the 
world; all the sentences, judgments, reasonings 
and maxims of the wisest of philosophers, when in 
their highest state of wisdom, should constitute the 
common lessens of instruction for youthful minds. 

This is the only way to make the young and ig- 
norant part of the world the better for the wisdom 
and knowledge of the wise and ancient. . 

3. The youths that attended upon Pythagoras, 
Socrates, Plato, and Epictetus, were thus educated. 
Their every day lessons and instructions were so 
many lectures upon the nature of man, his true end, 
and the right use of his faculties ; upon the immor- 
tality of the soul, its relation to God, the beauty of 
virtue, and its agreeableness to the divine nature ; 
upon the necessity of temperance, fortitude, and 


be Sa 
vege 
€ ¥ 


O A HOLY LIFE. 17. 
Te 3 


generosity, and the shame and folly of indulging 
our passions. 

Now as christianity has, as it were, new created 
the moral and religious world, and set every thing 
that is reasonable, wise, holy, and desirable, in its 
true point of light : so one would expect, that the 
education of youth should be as much bettered and 
amended by christianity, as the doctrines of reli- 
gion are amended by it. 

As it has introduced a new state of things, and 
so fully informed us of the nature of man, and the 
-end of his creation ; as it has fixed all our goods and 
’ evils, taught us the means of purifying our souls, 
pleasing God, and becoming eternally happy; one 
might naturally suppose, that every christian coun- 
try abounded with schools, not only for teaching a 
few questions and answers of a Catechism, but for 
the forming, training, and practising youths in such 
a course of life,as the highest precepts, the strict- 
est rules, and the sublimest doctrines of christianity 
require. : 

4. An education under Pathagoras, or Socrates, 
had no other end, but to teach youth to think, judge, _ 
and act, as Pathagoras and Socrates did. ; 

And is it not as reasonable to suppose, that a 
Christian education should have no other end, but 
to teach youth how to think, and judge, and act ac- 
cording to the strictest laws of christianity ? 

At least one would suppose, that in all Christian 
schools, the teaching youth to begin their lives in 
the spirit of Christianity, in such severity of behav- 
iour, such abstinence, sobriety, humility and devo- 
tion, Spe bstianity requires, should not only be 
more but an hundred times more regarded, than 
any or all things else. 

For our educators should imitate our guardiar 
angels, suggest nothing to our minds but what is 
wise and holy; help us to discover and subdue ey- 

; P2 


L! ’ 


174 A SERIOUS CALL» 


ery vain passion of our hearts and every false judg- 
ment of our minds. ° ie 

And it is as reasonable to expect and require all 
this benefit of a Christian education, as to require 
that physic should strengthen all that is right in our 
nature, and remove that whichis sickly and dis- 
eased. Beis 4.2 . 
cm But alas! our modern education is not of this 

ind. . 

The first temper that we try toawaken in chil- 
dren, is pride ; as dangerous a passion as that of 
lust. We stir them up to vain thoughts of them- 
selves, and do every thing we can, to puff up their 
minds with a sense of their own abilities. 

Whatever way of life we intend them for, we ap- 
ply to the fire and vanity of their minds, and exhort — 
them to every thing from corrupt motives: We stir 
them up to action from principles of strife and am- 
bition, from glory, envy, and a desire of distinction, 
that they may excel others, and shine in the eyes of 
the world. Te 

And when we have taught them to scorn to be 
outdone by any, to bear no rival, to thirst after ev- 
ery instance of applause, to be content with noth- 
ing but the highest distinctions; then we begin 
to take comfort in them, and promise the world 
some mighty things from youths of such a glorious 
spirit. 

mle children are intended for holy orders, we set 
before them some eminent orator, whose fine” 
preaching has -made him the admiration of the age, 
and carried him through all the dignities and prefer- 
ments of the church. Cee bt 
_ We encourage them to have these honours in 
their eye, and to expect the reward of their studies 
from them. ‘ Bika 
if the youth is intended for a.trade, we bid him 
look at the rich men of the same trade, and consid- 


fo A HOLY LIFE. 175 
£ 


er how many now are carried in their stately coach- 
es, who began in the same low degree as he now 
does. We awaken his ambition, and endeavour to 
give his mind a right turn, by often telling him how 
very rich such and such a tradesman died. 

If he is to be a lawyer, then we set great coun- 
sellors, lords, judges and chancellors, before his 
eyes. We tell him what great fees, and great ap- 
plause attend fine pleading. We exhort him to 
take fire at these things, to raise a spirit of emula- 
tion in himself, and to be content with nothing less 
than the highest honours of the long robe. 

6. That this is the nature of our best education, 
is too plain to need any proof; and] believe there 
are few parents, but would be glad to see these in- 
structions daily given to their children. 

And after all this, we complain of the effects of 
pride; we wonder to see grown men actuated and 
governed by ambition, envy, scorn, and a desire of 
glory; not considering that they were all the time 
of their youth called upon to form all their actions 
and industry upon the same principles. 

You teach a child to scorn te be outdone, to 
thirst for distinction and applause ; and is it any 
wonder that he continues to act all his life in the 
same manner? 

Now if a youth is ever to be so far a christian, 
as to govern his heart by the doctrines of humility, 
I would fain know at what time he is to begin it; 
or if he is ever to begin it at all, why we train him 
up in tempers quite contrary to it? 

’ How dry and poor must the doctrines of humil- 
ity sound to a youth, that had been spurred up te 
all his industry by ambition, envy, emulation, anda 
desire of glory and distinction? And if he is not to 
act by these principles when he is a man, why do 
we call him to act by themin his youth? ~ 

Envy is acknowledged by all people to be the 


—— 


% -£ oe -- 


176 A SERIOUS CALL) 


most ungenerous, base, and wicked Passion that can 
enter into the heart of man. ets 

And is this the temper to be instilled, nourished 
and established in the minds of young people ? 

7. I know it is said, that itis not envy but emula- 
tion, that is intended to be awakened in the minds 
of young men. 

But this is vainly said. For when children are 
taught to bear no riyal, and to scorn to be outdone 
by any of their be they are plainly and directly 
taught to be en¥tous. For it is impossible for any 
one to have this scorn of being outdone, this con- 
tention with rivals, without burning with envy 
against all those that seem to excel him, or get any 
distinction from him. So that what children are 
taught is rank envy, and only covered with a name 
of less odious sound. 

Secondly, if envy is thus confessedly bad, and it 
be only emulation that is endeavoured to be awak- 
ened in children, surely there ought to be great care 
taken that children may know the one from the oth- 
er; that they may abominate the one asa great 
crime, whilst they give the other admission into 
their minds. th 

But if this were to be attempted, the fineness of 
the distinction betwixt envy and emulation, would 
shew that it was easier to divide them in words, 
than to separate them in action. a lak 

For emulation, when it is defined im its best 
manner, is nothing else but a refinement upon en- 
vy, or rather the most plausible part of that black 
and venomous passion. . 

And though it is easy to separate them in the no- 
tion, yet the most accute philosopher, that under- 
stands the art of distinguishing ever so well, if 
he gives himself up to emulation, will certainly find 
himself deep in envy. ; 


8. It is said also, that ambition, and a desire of 


“TO A HOLY LIFE. 177 


glory, are necessary to excite young people to in- 
dustry ; and thatif we were to press upon them the 
doctrines of humility, we should deject their minds, 
and sink them into dulness and idleness. 

But these people who say this, do not consider, 
that this reason, if it has any strength, is full as 
strong against pressing the doctrines of humility 
upon grown men, lest we should deject their minds, 
and sink them into dulness and idleness. 

This reason therefore that is given, why children 
should not be trained up in the principles of true 
humility, is as good a reason why the same humility 
should never be required of grown men. 

Again, let those people, who think that:children 
would be spoiled, if they weré not thus educated, 
consider this. : 

Could they think, that if any children had been 
educated by our blessed Lord, or his holy apostles, 
their minds would have been sunk into dulness and 
idleness ? 

Or could they think that such children would not 
have been trained up in the profoundest principles 
of humility ? Can they say that our blessed Lord 
who was the humblest man that ever was on earth, 
was hindered by his humility from being the great- 
est example of worthy and glorious actions, that 
ever were done by man? 

Can they say that his apostles, who lived in the 
humble spirit of their master, did therefore cease 
to be laborious and active instruments of doing 
good to all the world ? 

A few such reflections as these, are sufficient to 
expose all the poor pretences for an education in 


pride and ambition. ar 


9. Paternus lived about two hundred years ago; 
-he had but one son, whom he educated himself in 
his own house. As they were sitting together in 


sf 


i a ie * 
178° "A SERIOUS CALL 


te r ; : 
the garden, when the child was ten years old, Pa- 
ternus thus began to him: _ et Te 
The little time that you have been in the world, 
my child, you have spent wholly with me; and my 
love and tenderness to you, has made you look up- 
on me as your only friend and benefactor, and the 
‘cause of all the comfort and pleasure you enjoy; 
your heart, | know, would be ready to break with 
gtief, if you thought this was the last day that I 
should live with you. dda arciiate, lubiiy 
But, my child, though you now think yourself 
mighty happy, because you have hold of my hand, 
you are now in the hands, and under the tender care 
of a much greater father and friend than I am,whose 
love to you is far greater than mine, and from whom 
you receive such blessings as no mortal can give. 
That God whom you have seen me daily wor- 
ship: whom I daily call upon to bless both you and 
me, and all mankind; whose wondrots acts are 
recorded in those scriptures, which you constantly 
read. That God who created the heavens and the 
earth, who brought a flood upon the old world ; who 
saved Noah in the ark, who was the God of Abra- 
ham, Isaac and Jacob, whom Job blessed and 
praised in the greatest afflictions; who deliverd the 
Israelites out of the hands of the Egyptians, who 
was the protector of righteous J oseph ig es, Josh- 
ua, and holy Daniel ; who sent so many prophets 
into the world; who sent his Son Jesus Christto © 
redeem mankind. ‘This God, who has done all 
these great things; who has created so many mil- 
lions of men, who lived and died before you was 
born ; with whom the spirits of good men that are 
departed this life, now live; whom infinite num- 
bers of angels now worship in heaven, ‘This great 
. God, who is the creator of worlds, of angels, and 
men, is your loving father and friend, your good 
creator and nourisher, from whom, and not from me, 


{ 


: 70 A HOLY LIFE, © 179 


you received your being ten years ago, at the time 
that I planted that little tender elm which you there 
see. : 

10.1 myself am not half the age of this shady 
oak, under which we sit; many of our fathers have 
sat under its boughs; we have all ofus called it 
ours in our turn, though it stands, and drops its — 
masters, as it drops its leaves. 

You see, my son, this wide and large firmament 
over our heads, where the sun and moon, and all 
the stars appear in their turns. If you were to be 
carried up to any of these bodies at this vast dis- 
tance from us, you would still discover others, as 
much above you, as the stars that you see here are 
above thegarth. Were you to go up or down, east 
or west, north or south, you would find the same 
height without any top, and the same depth without 
any bottom. 

And yet, my child, so great is God, that all these 
bodies added together, are but as a grain of sand in 
his sight. And yet you areas much the care of 
this great God, and Father of all worlds, and all 
spirits, as if he had no son but you, or there were 
no creature for him to love and protect but you 
alone. He numbers the hairs of your head, watch- 
es over you sleeping and waking, and has preserv- 
ed you from a thousand dangers, which neither you 
nor I know any thing of. 

11. How poor my power is, and how little ] am 
able to do for you, you have often seen. Your 
late sickness has shewn you how little I could do 
for you in that state; and the frequent pains of 
your head are plain proofs, that I have no power to 
remove them. 

_ Ican bring you food and medicines, but have no 
power to turn them into your relief and nourish- 
ment; itis God alone that can do this for you. 

Therefore, my child, fear, and worship, and love 


180 — '. A SERIOUS CALL 


God. Your eyes indeed cannot yet see him, but 
every thing you see, are so many marks of his pow- 
er and presence, and he is nearer to you than any 
thing that you can see. ~ : i: Sa 

Take him for your Lord and Father, and Friend ; 
look up unto him as the fountain and cause of all 

_the good that you have received through my hands35, 
and reverence me only as the bearer and minister 
of God’s good things unto you; and he that bless- 
ed my father before I was born, will bless ye 
Jamdead.. a aati 

Your youth and little mind is only yet acqt 
ed with my family, and, therefore you,think. 
is no happiness out of it. ci i mioae 

But, my child, you belong to a greater family 
than mine; you are a younger member of the fam- 
ily of this Almighty Father of all nations, who has 
created infinite orders of angels, and numberless 
generations of men, to be fellow-members of one 
and the same society in heaven. iti 


GROW, Be 
12. You do well to reverence my authority, be- 


jaint- 
there 


cause God has given me power over you, to bring 
you up in his fear, and to do for you, as the holy 
fathers recorded in scripture did for their children, 
who are now inrest and peace with God. 

_ I shall in a short time die, and leave you to God 
and yourself; and if God forgiveth my sins I shall 
go to his Son Jesus Christ, and live amongst patri- 
archs and prophets, saints and martyrs, where I 


shall pray for you, and hope for your safe arrival 


at the same place. . ait 
Therefore, my child, meditate on these great 
things, and let your thoughts often leave these gar- 
dens, these fields and farms, to contemplate God 
and heaven, to consider angels, and the spirits. of 
good men living in light aa lory. Aigeass il 
As you have been used to look to me in all your 
actions, and haye been afraid to do any thing, un- 


£ 


TO A HOLY LIFE. m1 SF" 
eT ee “ii 


less you first knew my will; so let it now be your 
rule to look up to God in all your actions, to do ey- 
ery thing in bis fear, and to abstain from every 
thing that is not according to his will. . 
Bear him always in your mind; teach your 
thoughts to reverence him in every place; for 
there is no place where he isnot. Nh 
13. God keepeth a book of life, wherein all the 
actions of all men are written; your name is there, 


my child; and when you die, this book will be 
laid open before men and angels; and according as’ 


your actions are there found, you will either be 


received tothe happiness of those holy men who 
have died before you, or be turned away among 
wicked spirits, that are never to see God any more. 

Never forget this book, my son; for it is written, 
it must be opened, you must see it, and you must 
be tried by it. Strive therefore to fill it with your 
good deeds, that the hand-writing of God may net 
appear against you. 

God, my child, is all love, and wisdom, and good- 
ness; and every thing that he has made, and every 
action that he does, is the effect of them ‘all._— 
Therefore you cannot please God, but so far as you 
strive to walk in love, wisdom, and goodness. As 
all wisdom, love and goodness, proceeds from God; 
so nothing but love, wisdom, and goodness, can 
lead to God. 

When you love that which God loves, you act 
with him, you join yourself to him; and when you 
Jove what he dislikes, then you oppose him, and 
separate yourself from him. ‘This Is the true and 
the right way; think what God loves, and do you 
love it with all your heart. 

14. First of all, my child, worship and adore 
God, think of him magnificently, speak of him rey- 
erently, magnify his providence, adore his power, 
frequent his service, and pray unto him constantly. 

Q 


182 _ A»SERIOUS CALL 


Next to this, love your neighbour, which. is all 
mankind, with such tenderness and affection as you 
_ love yourself. Think how God loves all,mankind, 
how merciful he is to them, how tender he is of 
them, how carefully he preserves them, and then 
strive to love the world, as Godlovesit. > 
_ God would have all men to be ha py, therefore 
do you will anddesire the same. Allmena re great 
instances of divine love, therefore let all men be i 
stances. of your love. - ese: 


fore, as you are to be charitable to the souls. 
and, vidios the same happiness with 


0 A HOLY LIFE. ap tis te ae 
é % 
endeavour to make them as happy as you upon 
earth. ' “ie me 
As God has created all things for the common — 
good of all men; so let that part of them which is 
fallen to your share, be employed, as God would 
have all employed, for the common good of all. 

Do good, my son, first of all to those that most 
deserve it, but remember to do good to all. The 
greatest sinners receive daily instances of God’s 
goodness towards them; he nourishes and _pre- 
serves them, that they may repent and return to 
him; do you therefore imitate God, and think no 
one too bad to receive your relief and kindness, 
when you see that he wants it. 

16. Iam teaching you Latin and Greek, not that 
you should desire to be a great critic, a fine poet, 
or an eloquent orater. 1 would not have your 
heart feel any of these desires; for the desire of 
these accomplishments is vanity, and the masters 
of them are generally vain men. 

But I teach you these languages, that at proper 
times you may look into the history of past ages, 
and learn the methods of God’s providence over the 
world; that reading the writings of the ancient sa- 
ges, you may see how wisdom and virtue have 
been the praise of great men of all ages. 

Let truth and plainness be the only ornament of 
your language, and study nothing but how to think 
of all things as they deserve, to choose every thing 
that is best, to live according to reason, and to act 
in every part of your life in conformity to the will 
of God. 

Study how to fill your heart full of the love of 
God, and the love of your neighbour, and then be 
content to be no deeper a schon no finer a gentle- 
man, than these tempers will make yous As true 
religion is nothing else but simple nature governed 
by right reason; so it loves and requires great 


at 


4 


ee 


184s a BeRIOUS caLE 


‘= at" Fel PA. ao it 


a =" ¢ a 
plainness and simplicity of life. Therefore avoid 
all superfluous shews, finery and equipage, and let 
your house be plainly furnished with moderate con- 
veniencies. Do not consider what your estate can 


_ afford, but what right reason requires. 


» 17, Let your dress be sober, clean, and modest ; 


. not to set out the beauty of your person, but to de- 


_ @lare the sobriety of your mind, that 


i your outward 
garb may resemble the plainness of your 
For it is highly reasonable, that you shoul 


man, all of a piece, and appear outwardly s ch as 
you are inwardly. © ya 
As to your meat and drink, in them observe the 


highest rules of Christian temperance and sobriety ; 
consider your body only as the servant of your soul; 


and only so nourish it, that it may perform - hum- 


ble and obedient service to it. 9 

But my son, observe this asa principal thing, _ 

which I shall remember you of as long as I live. - 

Hate and despise all humag glory, for it is noth- 
ing else but human folly. It is the greatest snare, 
and the greatest betrayer that you can possibly ad- 
mit into your heart. : 

_ Let every day therefore be a day of humility ; 
condescend to all the infirmities of yourfellow-crea- 
tures, cover their frailties, love their excellencies, 
encourage their virtues, relieve their wants, rejoice 
in their prosperities, compassionate their distresses, 
receive their friendship, overlook their u@kindness, 
forgive their malice, be a servant of servants, and 
condescend to do the-lowest offices to the lowest of 
mankind. ‘ tia 

18. Aspire after nothing but your own purity and 
perfection, and have no ambition but to do every 
thing.in so religious a manner, that you may be glad 
God is every where present, and sees all your 
actions. The greatest trial of humility is an hum- 
ble behaviour towards your equals in age, estate 


M4 % é 


sae 


TO A HOLY LIFE. a. 185. 
and condition. Therefore be careful of all th 


motions of your heart towards these people. Let — 
all your behaviour towards them be governed by 


unfeigned love. Have no desire to put any of your 
equals below you, nor any anger at those that 


would put themselves above you. If they are © 


“proud, they are ill of a very bad distemper, let 
them therefore have your tender pity, and perhaps 
your meekness may prove an occasion of their 
cure ; but if your humility should do them no good, 
it will however be the greatest good to yourself. 

Remember that there is but one man in the 


a 
. 
oy 4 


M: 


# 
a 
i 


+4 


be 


world, with whom you are to have perpetual con~ 


tention, and be always striving to excel him, and 
that is yourself. 

The time of practising these precepts, my child, 
will soon be over with you ; the world will soon slip 
through your hands, or rather you will soon slip 
through it; it seems but the other day since I re- 
ee these instructions from my dear father, that 
I am now leaving with you. And the God that 


gave me ears to hear, and a heart to receive what. 


my father said unto me, will, I hope, give you grace 
to love and follow the same instructions. | 


me 


CHAPTER XV. 


Shewing how the method of educating daughters, 
makes it difficult Sor them to enter into the spirit 
of Christian humility. How miserably they are 
injured and abused by such an education. The 
spirit of a better education, represented in the 
character of Eusebia. _ 


1. Tar turn of mind which is taught and  en- 
couraged in the education of daughters, makes it 
Q 2 P 


186 A SERIOUS CALL, 


e 
exceeding difficult for them to enter into such a 
sense and. practice of humility, as the abe of 
christianity requireth. 
The right education of this sex is of the utmost 
- importance. For though women do not carry on’ 
the trade and business of the world ; yet as they 
are mothers and mistresses of families, that have for 
some time the care of the education of their chil- 
dren, they are entrusted with that which is of the 
greatest consequence te human life. For this rea- - 
son, good or bad women are likely to do a: much 
good or harm in the world, as good or bad men in 
the greatest business. is 

For as the health and siete or weakness of 
our bodies, is much owing to their methods of treat- 
ing us when we were young; so the soundness or 
fally of our minds is not less owing to those first 
tempers and ways of thinking, which we eagerly 
received from the love, tenderness, authority and 
constant conversation of our mothers. . 

As we call our first language our mother-tongue, 
so we may as justly call our first tempers ow: ‘moth- 
er tempers; and perhaps it may be found more 

. easy to forget the language, than to part entirely 
with those tempers which we learned in the nur- 
sery, 

9, Jt is therefore much to be patted: that this 
sex who have the forming both of our bodies 
and minds, are not only educated in pride, but in 1 the 
silliest and most contemptible part of it.» ~ 

‘They are not indeed suffered to dispute with us. 
the proud prizes of arts and sciences; but wwe turn) 
them ever to the study of beauty and dress, and the 
whole world conspires to make them think oh 
ing else. F athers and mothers, friends and re 
tions, seem to have no other wish towards the 

tle girl, but that she may have a fair sk 
shape, dress well, and dance to admiratio 


, iad ee 


¢ 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 187° 
Sa 
Now ifja fondness for our persons, a desire of e 
beauty, a love of dress, be a part of pride (as sure- — 
ly it is a most contemptible part of it) the first step 
towards a woman’s humility, seems to require a re- 
pentance of her education. 

_ For it must be owned, that, generally speaking, 
good parents are never more fond of their daugh- 
. ters, than when they see them too fond of them- 
selves, and dressed in such a manner, as is a great 
reproach to the gravity and sobriety of the Chris- 
tian life. 

3. The church has formerly had eminent saints 
in that sex ; and it may reasonably be thought, that 
it is purely owing to their peor and vain education, 
that this honour of their sex is for the most part con- 
fined to former ages. 

The corruption of the world indulges them in 
great vanity, and mankind seem to consider them 
in no other view, than as so many painted idols, 
that are to allure and gratify their passions: so that 
if any women are yain, light, gewgaw creatures, 
‘they have this to excuse themselves, that they are 
not only such’ as their education has made them, 
but such as the generality of the world allows them 
to be. we 

But then they should consider that the friends to 
their vanity are no friends of theirs; that they are 
to live for themselves ; that they have as great a 
share in the rational nature as men have; that they 
have as much reason to pretend, and as much ne- 
cessity to aspire after the highest accomplishments 
of Christian virtue, as the gravest and wisest among 
Christian philosophers. ‘ ) 

They should consider, that they are abused and 
injured, and betrayed from their only perfection, 
whenever they are taught, that any thing is an or- 
nament in them, that is not an ornament in .the 
wisest among mankind. qe: 


+ 


v 
> a. 
¥ % 


~~ hin 


#, a 
j « ai eS ts 4 , 
188 A SERIOUS CALL " 


_ 4, It is generally said, that women > natura * 
of little and vain minds ; "bat this I lool ns to , 


And if it were true, that they were thus na 
ly vain and light, then how much more blameable 
is that education, which seems contrived to strength- 
en and increase this folly and weakness of their 
minds ? es & 
For if it were a virtue in a woman to be proud © 
and vain of herself, we could hardly take better 
means to raise this passion in her, than those that 
are now used in their education. ep ae 
5. Matilda is a fine woman, of good breeding, 
and great sense. She has three daughters that are 
educated by herself. She will not trust them with 
any one else, or at any school, for fearthey should 
learn any thing ill. She stays with thedancing 


master all the time he is with them, because she 
will hear every thing that is saidto them. She has _ 
heard them read the Scriptures so often, that they 
ean repeat great part of it without book, and there 
is scarce a good book of devotion, but you may find 
it in their closets. ee x 
Had Matilda lived in the first ages of christiani- 
ty, she had in all probability been one of the great- 
est saints. But asshe was born in corrupt cae 


where she hardly ever saw a piety higher than her 
own; she has many defe eS and communicates _ 
them to all her daughters. alates 's % 
6. Matilda never as meanly 
and nothing pleases her in 


very rich, and beautiful to the eye, 


’ 


YO A HOLY LIFE. 189 


‘Her daughters see her great zeal for religion, but 
then they see an equal earnestness for all sorts of © 
finery. They see she is not negligent of her devo- 
tion; but then they see her more carefut to pre- 
serve her complexion, and to prevent those changes 
which time and age threaten her with. 

They are afraid to meet her, if they have missed 
the church; but then they are more afraid to see 
her, .if they are not laced as straight as they can 
possibly be.» 

She often shews them her own picture, which was 
taken when their father fell in love with her. She 
tells them how distracted he was with passion at the 
first sight of her; and that she had never had so 
fine a complexion, but for the diligence of her 
good mothety who took exceeding care of it. 

The children see so plainly the temper of their 
mother, that they effect to be more pleased with 
dress, than they really are. 

They saw their eldest sister once brought to her 
tears, and her perverseness severely reprimanded, 
for presuming to say, that she thought it was better 
to cover the neck than to go so far naked as the 
modern dress requires. 

7. She stints them in their meals, and is very 
scrupulous of what they eat and drink, and tells 
them how many fine shapes she has seen spoiled in 
her time, for want of such care. 

Whenever they begin to look sanguine and health- 
ful, she calls in the assistance of the doctor; and if 
physic, or issues, will keep the complexion from 
inclining to coarse or ruddy, she thinks them well 
employed. aD 

By this means they are poor, pale, sickly, infirm 
creatures, vapoured through want of spirits, crying 
at the smallest accidents, swooning away at any 
thing that frights them, and hardly able to bear the 
weight of their best clothes. © cestllias, 


! * 
« 4 tp 


at. aa rg 


190 


The eldest ates lived as 3 tae as she could q 
under this s discipline, and died in the arogirt 
of her age. 

When her body was opened, it appeared her 
ribs had grown into her liver, and that her other en- 
trails were much hurt, by being crushed together 

awith her stays; which her mother had hee to 
be twiched so strait, that it has ofte 
into her eyes, whilst the maid was. 

Her y youngest daughter, ran awa} est J 
a man of great beauty, who in dress ing and fan ro x 
has.no superior. sgh ial 

_ Matilda says, she should die with orief nethia 8 

cident, but that her conscience tells her, 
_ contributed nothing to it herself. She app 

their closets, to their books of devotion, 
what care she has taken, to estab 
im piety. 
_ 8 Now, though I do not intend to'say, 
daughters are brought up in a better way tha 
yet thus much may be said, that the greater 


shem are not brought up so well, or aggusiom 
A. of aft 


so much religion. 
Their minds are turned as moeitis 
their beauty and dress, without having such rules — 
of devotion to stand against it. So. that if solid pi- 
ety i is ae in that sex, it is the plain si 
sequence corrupt education. uo. 
And if they are often,ready to receive the first F 
fops, beaux, and fine dancers, for their husbands, 
it is no wonder that they should like that in men, _ 
which they have been pine to ee in them 4 
selves. hey =f 
Some people will perhaps say, that I “waite 
sing too great a severity — the a 
But reasona ) >, that I spa 
the sex, and only arrai; Pt 
not only spare them, bu P 


3 5% ¢ : ee 
tp se “4 * 


ii, el <a ee eee 


TO A HOLY ‘LIFE. 191 
their honour, and only condemn that education 


which is so injurous thereto. 
Their education I cannot spare; but the only 


reason is, ie is their greatest enemy, because 


it deprives ti€ world of so many blessings, and 
the church of so many saints. : 

If it should here be said, that I even charge too 
high upon their education, and that they are not so 
“much by itasT imagine. | 

it may be answered, that though I do not pretend 
to state the exact degree of mischief that is done by 
it, yet its plain and natural tendency to do harm, is 
sufficient to justify the most absolute condemnation 
of it. sid 

9. But how possible it is to bring up daughters 

in a more excellent way, let the following charac- 
ter declare. 
* Eusebia is a pious widow, well born, and well 
bred, and has a good estate for five daughters, 
whom she brings up as one entrusted by God, to fit 
five virgins for the kingdom of heaven. Her family 
has the same regulation as a religious house, and 
all its orders tend to the support of a constant reg- 
ular devotion. 


She loves them as her spiritual children, and 


they reverence her as their spiritual mother, with 
an affection far above that of the fondest ro : 

She has divided part of her estate among them, 
that every one may be charitable out of their own 


stock, and each of them take it in their turns to pro- _ 


vide for the poor and sick of the parish. 

Eusebia brings them up to all kinds of labour 
that are proper for women, as sewing, knitting, spin- 
ning, and all other parts of housewifery ; not for 
their amusement, but that they be serviceable 
to themselves and others, and be saved from 

those tem tations which attend an idle life. 
- Ske tells them, ‘she had rather or 


a a vv =, 


Fey | ae tees ee 


*" 


eyes of his children, before they were of an age ae F 


bi nani os ik i wm PP ere, oe 
coe at ei oe i ™ 


192 A SERIOUS. CALL~ * j 


he 


to the necessity of maintaining themselyes by their 
owa work, than to have riches to excuse them- 
selves from labour. For though, says. she 
may. be able to assist the poor wil { 
yet by your labour you will be “ae as 
more. 

10. If Eusebia has lived : as : free’ from sin as it is 


possible for human-nature, it is because she is al- 


ways Watching and guarding against all instances of § 
pride. And if her virtues are “stronger and higher a 
than other people’s, it is because they. are all found- 4 
ed in a deep humility. ; 
My children, says she, when your father died I.’ 
was much pitied by my friends, as having all the — 
care of a family, and the management of an estate 
fallen upon me. ati? cs 
But my own grief was founded u on anothe: 
principle: I was grieved to see at p 
so faithful a friend; and that such an eming 
ample of Christian vittGes should be taken from 


: the 7. 


love and follow it. 
But as to worldly cares, which my fds, thought 

so heavy upon me, they are most of £4 our 

own making, and fall away as soon as we know our- — 


selves. . 


‘it a person i ina dream is disturbed with strange 
< 


ae 
appearances, his trouble is over as soon as 


awake, and” sees thatit wasadream. © we a 
Now, when a right knowledge of ourselves en- ~ 
ters into,our minds, it makes as great achange in d 

all our thoughts and apprehensions, as when we 

awake from the wanderings ¢ dréam. "Fe 
We acknowledge a man to be mad or melanchol- 

ly, who fancies himself to be glass, and sg is afraid 

of stirring ; or taking Sadi be be dares: not 

tet the sun shine upon him.” 


ez: my aeiren: there are ig ew @ world 


ot, 
ue e 


i. oe ~ a 


iS, TO A HOLY LIFE. 193. 


which pass for wisdom, politeness, grandeur, happi- 
ness, and fine breeding, which shews as great igno- 
rance of ourselves, and might as justly pass for 
thorough madness, as when a man fancies himself 
to be glass, or ice. 

- A woman that dares not appear in the world 
without fine clothes, that thinks it is a happiness to 
have a face finely coloured, to have a skin delicate- 
ly fair, that had rather die than be reduced to pov- 
erty and be forced to work for a maintenance, is 
as ignorant of herself to the full, as he that fancies 
himself to be glass. 5 

11. For this reason, all my discourse with you, 
has been to acquaint you with yourselves, and to ac- 
custom you to such books as might best instruct 
you in this greatest of all knowledge. 

You would think it hard, not to know the family 
into which you were born, what ancestors you were 
descended from, and what estate was to come to 
you. But, my children, you may know all this 
with exactness, and yet be as ignorant of your- 
selves, as he that takes himself to be wax. 

For though you were all of you born of my body, 
and bear your father’s name, yet youare all of you 

ure spirits. I do not mean that you have not 
fallin but that all which deserves to be called 
you, is nothing else but spirit. A being spiritual 
and rational in its nature; that is ascontrary to all 
corporeal beings, as life is contrary to death; that 
is made in the image of God, to live for ever, never 
to cease any more, but to enjoy life, and reason, 
and knowledge and happiness in the presence of 
God, and the society of angels, and the glorious 
spirits, to all eternity. 

Every thing that you call yours, besides this 
spirit, is but like your clothing; something that is 
only to be used for a while, and then to end, and 

R er ‘e 


> 
Vera, 


; 194 - A‘SERIOUS CALL | 


die, and wearaway, and to signify nomore to you, 
than the clothing and bodies of other people. 

12, But, my children, you are not only in this 
manner spirits, but you are all fallen spirits, that be- 
gan your life in a state of corruption and disorder, 
full of tempers and passions, that blind and darken 
gee reason, and ineline you to that which is hurt- 
ful. 


Your bodies are not only poor and perishing like 
your clothes, but they are like ill infected cliches, 
that fill you with ill diseases, which oppress the 
soul, with sickly appetites and vain cravings. ~~ 

So that all of us are like two beings, that have, as 
it were, two hearts within us; with the one we see, 
and taste, and admire reason, and holiness; with 
the other, we incline to pride, and vanity, and sen- 
sual delights. ¢ . 

If you weuld know the one thing necessary to all 
the world, it is this; to preserve and perfect all 
that is rational, holy and divine in our nature, and 
to mortify, remove, and destroy all vanity, pride, 
and sensuality. Bee 

Could you think, my children, when you look at 
the world, and see what customs, and fashions, and 

pleasures, and troubles, and projects employ the’ 
hearts and time of mankind, that things were thus? 

But do not be affected at these things; the world 
is in a great dream, and but few people are awake 
in it. + ao i 

We fancy that we fall into darkness when we die : 
but alas, we are most of us in the dark till then; and 
the eyes of our souls only then begin to see, when 
our bodily eyes are closing. ty 

18. You see then your state, my children; you 
are to improve and perfect the spirit that is within 
you; you are to prepare it for the kingdom of 
Heaven, to nourish it with the love of God, to adorn 
it with good works, and to make it as holy. and 


hires e 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 195 


heavenly as you can. You are to preserve it from 
the errors and vanities of the world ; tosave it from 
the corruptions’ of the body, from those false de- 
lights and sensual tempers which the body tempts 
it with. : 

You are to nourish your spirits with pious read- 
ings, and holy meditations, with watchings, fast- 
ings, and prayers, that you may relish that eternal 
state whichis to begin when this life ends. 

As to your bodies, you are to consider them as 
poor, perishing things, that are corrupt at present, 
and will soon drop into common dust; you are to 
watch over them as enemies, that are always trying 
to betray you, and so never follow their counsel ; 
you are to consider them as the place and habita- 
tion of your souls, and so keep them clean and de- 
cent; you are to consider them as the servants and 

-instruments of action, and so give them food, and 
rest, and raiment, that they may be strong and 
healthful to do the duties of a charitable, oct and 
pious life. 

Whilst you live thus, you live like yourselves ; 
and whenever you have less regard to your souls 
or more regard to your bodies ; whenever you are 
more intent upon adorning your persons, than up- 
on perfecting your souls, you are much more be- 
side yourselves, than he that had rather have a 
laced coat, than a healthful body. 

14. For this reason, my children, I have taught 
you nothing that was dangerous for you to learn: 
Ihave kept you from every thing that might be- 
tray you into weakness and folly : or make you think 
any thing fine, but a fine mind; any thing happy, 
but the favour of God; or any thing desirable, but 
to do all the good you possibly can. 

- Instead of the vain, immodest entertainment of 
plays, and operas, I have taught you to delight in 
visiting the sick and poor. What music, and dan- 


_-_ ~<a 


196 A SERIOUS CALL 


cing, and diversions are to many in the world, that 
prayers and devotions, and psalms are to you.— 
Your hands haye not been employed in plaiting 
the hair, and adorning your persons; but in mak- 
ing clothes for the naked. You have not wasted 
your fortunes upon yourselves, but have added 
eu labour to them, to do more good to other peo- 

Ae. / . 

Instead of forced shapes, genteel airs, and af- 
fected motions, I have taught you to conceal your 

- bodies with modest garments, and let the world 
have nothing to view of you, but the plainness, and 
sincerity, and humility of all your behaviour. » 

15. You know my children the high perfection, 
and the great rewards of virginity ; you know how 
it frees from worldly cares and troubles, and fur- 
nishes means and opportunities of higher advance- 
ments in the divine life. Therefore love and es- 
teem, and honour virginity: bless God for all that 
glorious company of holy virgins, that from the be- 
ginning of christianity have, in the several ages of 
the church, renounced the cares and pleasures of 
matrimony, to be perpetual examples of contem- 
plation and prayer. MILA 
~ But as every one has their proper gift from God, 
as I look upon you all to be so many great bless- 
ings of a married state; so I leave to your choice, 
either to do as I have done, or to aspire after high- 
er degrees of perfection in a virgin state. 

I press nothing upon you, but to make the most 
of buman life, and to aspire after perfection in. 
whatever state you choose. Abe 

Never therefore consider yourselves as persons 
that are to be seen, admired, and courted by men; 
but as poor sinners, that are to save yourselves 
from the vanities and follies of a miserable world. 

_ Learn to live for your own sakes, and the service 
of God; and let nothing in the world be of any 


: TO A HOLY LIFE. 197 


value with you, but that which you can turn into 
a service to God, and a means of your future hap- 
piness. | 

16. Whether married therefore, or unmarried, 
consider yourselves as mothers and sisters, as 
friends and relations to all that want your assis- 
tance; and never allow yourselves to be idle, whilst 
others are in want of any thing that your hands can 
make for them. ‘ 

This useful, charitable, humble employment of 
yourselves, is what | recommend to you with great 
earnestness ; and besides the good you will there- 
by do to other people, your own hearts will be im- 
proved by it. . 

For next to reading, meditation, and prayer, there 
is nothing that so secures our hearts from foolish 
passions, as some useful, humble employment of 
ourselves. ; = 

Never therefore consider your labour as an 


_. amusement, that is to get rid of your time, and so 


may be as trifling as you please; but consider it 
as something that is to be serviceable to yourselves 
and others, that is to serve some sober ends of life, 
to save and redeem your time, and make it turn to 
your account when the works of al! people shall be 
tried by fire. : 

If there is any good to be done by your labour, if 
you can possibly employ yourselves usefully to oth- 
er people, how silly is it, how contrary to the wis- 
dom of religion, to make that a mere amusement, 
which might as easily be made an exercise of the 
greatest charity! : 

What would you think of the wisdom of him, 
that should employ his time in distilling of waters, 
and making liquors which nobody could use, mere- 
ly to amuse himself with the variety of their colour, 
when with less labour and expense, he might satisfy 
the wants of those who have nothing to drink ? 

R 2 . 


198 A SERIOUS CALL | 
Yet he would be as wisely employed, as*those 
that are amusing themselves with such tedious 
works as they neither need, nor hardly know how 
to use when they are finished; when, with less la- 
bour and expense, they might be doing as much 
good, as he that is clothing the naked, or visiting 
the sick. : ‘ 
__ Be glad therefore to know the wants of the poor- 
~ est people, and let your hands be employed in mak 
ing such things for them, as their necessities re 


quire. By thus making your labour a gift and ser- 
vice to the poor, your ordinary work will be chang- 
ed into a holy service, and made as acceptable to 
God as your devotions. _ + ieee 

This will make you true disciples of your mee 
Lord and Master, who “ came into the world, not 


Contract no foolish friendships, or vair 
for particular persons ; but love them 1 


most turn your love towards God, and y 
passion towards all the world. : 

But above all, avoid the conversation of fine-bred 
fops and beaux, and hate nothing more than the 


idle discourse, flattery and compliments of thatsort 


ea 


ef men; for they are the shame of their own sex, 


and ought to be the abhorrence of yours. 
When yow go abroad, let humility, modesty, and 
adecent carriage, be all the state you take upon 
+ { 


* : F Ly 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 198 


you; and let tenderness, compassion, and good na- 
ture, be all the fine breeding you shew in any place. 

If evil speaking, scandal, or backbiting, be the 
conversation where you happen to be, be as much 
grieved, as if you was amongst cursing and swear- 
ing, and retireas soon as youcan. > 

Though you intend to marry, yet let the time 
never come, till you find a man that has those per- - 
fections which you have been labouring after your- 
selves ; who is likely to be a friend to all your vir- 
tues, and with whom it is better to livé, than to 
want the benefit of his example. 

18. Love poverty, and reverence poor people; 
as for many reasons, so particularly for this, be- 
cause our blessed Saviour was one of the number. 

Visit and converse with them frequently ; you 
will often find simplicitly, innocence, patience, for- 
titude and great piety amongst them. 

Rejoice at every opportunity of doing an humble 
action; whether it be, as the scripture expresses it, 
in washing the saint’s feet, that is, in waiting upon, 
and serving those that are below you, or in bearing 
with the haughtiness and ill-manners of those that 
are your equals, or above you. For there is noth- 
ing better than humility ; it is the fruitful soil ofall 
virtues, and every thing that is kind and good, nat- 
urally grows from it. 

Therefore, my children, pray for, and practice 
humility ; and reject every thing in dress, or car- 
rages or conversation, that has any appearance of 

ride. 

P Strive todo every thing that is praise-worthy, 
but do nothing in order to be praised ; nor think of 
any reward for your labours of love, till Christ 
cometh with all his holy angels. 

19. And above all, my children, have a care of 
vain thoughts of your own virtues. For as soon as 
ever people live different from the common way of 


” 


200 A SERIOUS CALL | 


the world, the devil represents to their minds the 
height of their perfections; and is content they 
should excel in good works, provided he can make 
them proud of them. bie 


Therefore watch over your virtues with a jeal- 


ous eye, and reject every vain thought, as you 


would reject the most wicked imaginations; and 
think what a loss it would be to you, to have the 
fruit of all your good works devoured by the vanity 
of your minds. Weta) pep age 
Never therefore allow yourselves to despise those 
who do not follow our rules, but love them, and 
pray to God for them ; and let humility be always 
whispering in your ears, that you yourselves would 
fall from those rules to-morrow, if God should leave 
you to your own strength and wisdom. : 
When thereaee you have spent days and weeks 
well, do not suffer your hearts to contemplate any 
thing as your own, but give all the glory to God, 
who has carried you through such rules of holy liv- 
ing, as you were not able to observe by your own 
strength; and take care to begin the next day, not 


as proficients in virtue, that can do great matters, - 


but as poor beginners, that want the daily assis- 

tance of God, to save you from the grossest sins. | 
20. Your dear father was an humble, watchful, 

pious, wise man. Whilst his sickness would suffer 


him to talk with me, his discourse chiefly 
about your education. He knew the benefits of | 


humility, he saw the ruins which pride made in our 
Sex ; and therefore he conjured me with the tender- 
est expressions, to renounce the fashionable ways 


of educating dengaicts in pride and softness, m — 


the care of their beauty and dress; and to bring 
you all up in the plainest, simplest instances of an 
humble, holy, and industrious lifes ia. 

He taught me an admirable rule of humility, 
which he practised all the days of his life; which 


ere 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 201 


was this, to let no morning pass, without thinking 

upon some frailty and infirmity of our own, that may 
put us to confusion, make us blush inwardly, and 
entertain a mean opinion of ourselves. 

Think ‘therefore, my children, that the soul of © 
your good father, who is now with God, speaks to 
you through my mouth; and let the double desire 
of your father who is gone, and me who am with 
you, prevail upon you to love God, to study your 
own perfection, to practise humility, and, with inno- 
cent labour, to do all the good you can to all your 
fellow-creatures, till God calls you to another life. 

Thus did the pious widow educate her daughters. 
And a very ordinary knowledge of the spirit of 
christianity may convince us, that no education 
can be of true advantage to young women, but that 
which trains them up in humble industry, in great 
plainness of life, exact modesty of dress, manners, 
and carriage, and in strjct devotion. For what 
should a Christian woman be, but a plain, unaffect- 
ed, modest, humble, creature, averse to every thing 
in her dress and carriage, that can draw the eyes 
of beholders, or gratify the passions of lewd and 
amorous persons. 

21. These considerations may teach you to let no 
day pass, without a serious application to God, for 
the whole spirit of humility. Fervently beseech- 
ing him to fill every part of your soul with it, to 
make it the ruling, constant habit of your mind, 
that you may not only feel it, but feel all your other 
tempers arising from it; that you may have no 
thoughts, no desires, no designs, but such as are the 
true fruits of an humble, meek, and lowly heart. 

That you may always appear poor, and little, 
and mean in your own eyes, and fully content that 
others should have the same opinion of you. 

That the whole course of your life, your expense, 
your house, your dress, your nfanner of eating, 


202. A SERIOUS CALE 
drinking, conversing, and doing every thing may 
Be so many continual proofs of the humility of your 
eart. i a v1 
That you may look for nothing, claim nothing, 
- resent nothing; that you may go through all the 
actions of life, calmly and pe , as in the pres- 
-ence of God, looking wholly unto him, acting whol- 
ly for him; neither seeking applause, nor resenting. 
neglects, or affronts, but doing andreceiving every 
thing, in the meek and lowly Spirit of our Lord and 
Saviour Jesus Christ. ciate 


aT y 


Fs 


CHAPTER XVI. 


Recommendimg devotion at twelve o'clock, ealled in 
_ Scripture the sixth hour of the day. This frequen- 
cy of devotion equally desirable by all orders. of 
‘people. Universal love is recommended to be the 
subject of prayer at this hour. Of intercession as , 
an act of universal love. APR ak See ee ae 


1. It will perhaps be thought by some, that, these 
hours of prayer come too thick, and are only fit for 
monasteries, or such people as have no more to do 
in the world than they have. 4 baie 
To this it is answered. ye 
nethod of devotion is not pressed upon. . , 
utely necessary, but recommended toa 
people, as the best, the happiest way of life.  ~ 
And if exemplary devotion isas much the happi- 
ness and perfection of a merchant, a soldier, or a 
man of quality, as it is the happiness and perfec- — 
tion of the most retired, contemplative life, then it - 
is as proper to recommend it without any abate-— 
ments to one order of men, as toanother, 
Here is therefore no excuse for men of business ~ 


7 


% 


Fi j \ 
ee 


>. = 


"Se: cae 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 203 


and figure. First, because it would be to excuse 
them from that which is the end of living, to make 
them less beneficial to themselves, and less ser- 
viceable to God and the world. 

Secondly, Because most men of business and fig- 
ure engage too far in worldly matters; much far- 


: ae 
therthan the reasons of human life or the necéssi- 


ties of the world require: 

Merchants and tradesmen, for instance, are gene- 
rally ten times farther engaged in business than 
they need ; which is so far from being a reasonable 
excuse for their want of time for devotion, that it is 
their crime, and must be censured as a blameable 
instance of covetousness and ambition. 

Gentry and people of figure either give them- 
selves up to state employments, or to the gratifica- 
tions of their passions, ina life of gaiety and de- 
bauchery ; and if these things might be admitted as 
allowable avocations from devotion, devotion must 
be reckoned a poor circumstance of life. 

Unless gentlemen can shew that they have anoth- 
er God, than the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ ; 
another nature, than that which is derived from 
Adam ; another religion than the Christian, it is in 
vain to plead their state, and dignity, as reasons 
for not preparing their souls for God, by a strict 
and regular devotion. 

-2. Ifa merchant having forborné too great busi- 
ness, that he might quietly attend on the service of 
God, should die worth twenty instead of fifty thots- 
and pounds, could any one say he had mistaken 
his calling, or gone a loser out of the world? 

Ifa gentleman should have killed fewer foxes, 
been less frequent at balls, gaming, and merry 
meetings, because stated parts of his time had 
been given to retirement, to meditation and deve- 
tion, could it be thought, that when he left the 


oo‘ 


a 


gte 


m 


204 A SERIOUS. CALL. 


world, he would regret the loss of those hours, that 
he had given to the improvement of his ‘soul ?. 
Ifa tradesman by aspiring after Christian per- 
fection, and retiring often from business, should 
instead of leaving his children fortunes to spend in 
__ Juxury and idleness, leave them to live by their 
own honest labour; could it bene that he had 
made a wrong use of the* world, because he had 
more regard to that which is eternal, then to this 
which is so soon to be at an end ? hay te 

Since therefore devotion’ is not only the best and 
most desirable practice in a cloister, but in every 
‘state of life, they that desire to be excused from it, 
because they are men of figure, and estates, and 
business, are no wiser than those, that should de- 
sire to. be excused from health and happiness, be- 
cause they were men of figure and estates. 

3. I cannot see why every gentleman, merchant, 
or soldier, should not put these questions seriously - 
to himself: 

What is the best thing for me to aim at in all my 
actions ? How shall I do to make the most of human. 
life? What ways shall I wish that I had taken, when 
Tam leaving the world ? . : 

Now to be thus wise seems but a small and ne- 
cessary piece of wisdom. For how can we pre- 
tend to sense and judgment, if we dare not seri- 
ously consider, and govern our lives by that which 
such questions require of us ? - 

Shalla nobleman think his birth too high to cone. 
descend to such questions as these? Or a trades- 
man think his business too great, to take any care 
about himself? 

Now here is ‘desired no more devotion in any 
one’s life, than the answering these few questions 
require. a are oe 

Any devotion that is not to the greater advantage 
of him that uses it, than any thing he can do in the 


, Se 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 205 


room of it; any devotion that does not procure an 
infinitely greater good, than can be got by neglect- 
ing it,isyieldedup. . 

But if people will live in so much ignorance, as 
never to put these questions to themselves, but push 
on a blind life at all chances, in quest of they know 
not what, or why; without ever considering the 
worth, or value, or tendency of their actions, with- 
out considering what God, reason, eternity, and 
their own happiness requires of them; it is for the 
honour of devotion, that none can neglect it, but 
those who are thus inconsiderate, who dare not en- 
quire after that which is the best, and most worthy 
of their choice. - : 

4, It is true, Claudius, you are a man of figure 
and estate, and are to act the part of such a station 


in life; you are not called as Elijah was, to be a. 


prophet, or as St. Paul, to be an apostle. 

But will you therefore not love yourself? Will 
you not seek and study your own happiness ? 
* You would think it very absurd for a man not to 
_ value his own health, because he was not a physi- 
‘cian ; or the preservation of his limbs, because he 
was not a bone-setter. Yet it is more absurd for 
you, Claudius, to neglect the improvement of your 
soul, because you are not an apostle or a bishop. 

Consider, “ we must all appear before the judg- 
ment seat of Christ, that every one may receive 
the things done in his body, according to that he 
hath done, whether it be good or bad,” 2 Cor. v. 10. 
Now if your estate would excuse you from appear- 
ing before this judgment seat; if your figure could 
protect you from receiving according to your works, 
there would be some pretence for your leaving de- 
votion to other people. But if you, who are now 
thus distinguished, must then appear naked amongst 
common souls, without any other distinction from 
others, but such as your virtues or sins give you; 

8 


‘ rN as 

206 A SERIOUS CALL 

does it not as much concern you, as any ~prophet 

or apostle, to make the ron for that great 
yi Ss { Au) a4 ae 7 Ty t - 

Considehthe words of St. Peter: “ As he which 

hath called you is holy, sobe ye holy in all man-. 


ner of conversation.’ 1 Pet. i. 15.— 


Tf, therefore, Claudius, you are ct those here 
called, you see what it is you are called to. It is 


» not to have so much religion as suits with your tem- 
“per, 


your business, or your pleasures; it is not a 
particular sort of piety,: that may be. sufficient for 
gentlemen.of figure and estate ; but itis first, to be 
‘holy as he which hath called you is holy ;” se- 
condly, it is to be thus holy in -all- manner of con- 
versation; that is, to carry this spirit and degree of 
holinéss into every part, and through the whole 
form of your life. ri igi > 
. And the reason the apostle immediately gives, 
why this spirit of holiness must belthe common: spi- 
rit of Christians, as such, is very affecting, and such 
as equally calls upon all sorts of Christians. ‘“ For- 
asmuch as ye know, thatye were not redeemed 
with corruptible things, as silver and gold, from 
your vain conversation,——but with the precious 
‘blood of Christ.” rie a 
As if he had said, forasmuch as ye know ye were” 


made capable of this state of holiness, entered in- 
to a society with Christ, and made heirs of his glo- 


ry, not by any buman means, but by such a myste- 
rious instance of love, as infinitely exceeds every 
thing that can be thought of in this world; since 
God has redeemed you to himself, and your own 
happiness, at so great a price, how base and shame- 
ful must it be, if you do not henceforth devote your- 


. selves wholly to the glory of God, and become holy, 


as he who hath called you is holy ? kal 
5. Again, the apostle saith, “‘ Know ye not, that 
your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which 


eh . c 


- 70 A HOLY LIFE. 207 © 


is in you, and ye are not your own? for ye are 
bought with aprice ; therefore glorify God in your 
body, and in your spirit, which are God's.” 1 Cors 
vi. 19,20. » : ce 

How poorly therefore, Claudius, have you read | 
the scripture, how little do you know of Christiani- 
ty, if you can talk of your estate and condition, as a 
pretence for a freer kind of life? is 

Are you any more your own, than he that has no ~ 
estate or dignity in the world? Must mean and lit- 
tle people preserve their bodies as temples of the 
Holy Ghost, by watching, fasting, and prayer; but 
may you indulge yours in idleness, in lusts and sen- 
suality, because you have so much rent, or such a | 
title of distinction ? 

‘And’you must either think thus, or else acknow!- 
edge that the holiness of saints, prophets, and apos- 
tles, is the holiness that you are to labour after, with 
all diligence and care. en 

And if you leave it to others, to live in such piety 
and devotion, in such self-denial, humility and tem- 
perance, as may render them.able to glorify Godin 
their body, and in their spirit; you must leave it 
to them also, to have the benefit of the blood of 
Christ. 

6. Thus much being said to shew that great de- 
votion is not to be left toany particular sort of peo- 
ple, but to be the common spirit of all Christians ; 

I now proceed to consider the nature of universal — 
love, which is here recommended to be the subject | 
of your devotion at this hour. 

By intercession, is meant a praying to God in be- 
half of our fellow-creatures. a 

Our blessed Lord hath recommended his love to 
us, as the pattern of our love to,one another. As 
therefore he is continually making intercession_for 
us all, so ought we to intercede for one anothers 

‘* A new commandment,” saith he, I give unto 


208 A SERIOUS a a: 


you, that ye love one another, as I have loved you. 
By this shall all men — ye are my disciples, 
if ye love one another. | 1 Na ecen end 
The newness of this precept did not consist in 
this, that men were commanded to love one anoth- 
er; for this was an old precept, both of the law of 
- Moses and of nature. ~But it pe re re- 
spect, that it was to imitate anew, ‘till then, un- 
heard-of example of love; it was tollove one anoth- 
er, as Christ had loved .as.ecei ye? ates 
__ And if men are to know that-we are disciples of 
Christ, by our loving one another, according to his 
example, then if we are void of this love, we make 
it plainly known we are none of his disciples. © 
7. There is no principle more acceptable to,God, 
than an universal fervent love to all mankind, wish- 
ing and praying for their happiness 5. because there 
is no principle that makes us more like God, who is 
love and goodness itself, and created all beings: for 
the enjoyment of happiness. et 
The greatest idea, that. we can frame of-God is, 
_ a being of infinite love and goodness; ‘using infinite 


-» wisdom and power for the common good and hap- 


ness of all bis creatures. - | Sipe) ee 
The highest notion therefore that we can form of 
man is when we conceive him as like God in this 
respect as he can be; using all his finite: faculties, 
_' whether of wisdom, power, or prayers, for the com- 
~ mon good of all his fellow-creatures ; heartily de- 
- siring they may have all the happiness they are ca- 
pable of, and as many assistances from him, as his 
condition. in the world will permit him to give 
them. . 
And, on the other hand, what a baseness and in- 
iquity is there in all instances of hatred, envy, spite, 
and ill-will; if we consider that every instance of 
them is so far acting in opposition to God, end:in- 
tending mischief eo harm to those creatures, which 


ty 


—-- = 


God favours, and protects, and preserves, in order 


to their happiness. An ill-natured man amongst 
God’s creatures, is the most perverse creature in 


the world, acting contrary to that love, by which 


himself subsists, and which alone gives subsistence 


to all that variety of beings, that enjoy life in any 
part of the creation. f Peenginees 

. 8. “ Whatsoever ye would that men should do 
unto you, even so do unto them.”’ ‘ 

Now, though this is a doctrine of strict justice, 
yet it is only an universal love that can comply 
with it. - . 

As we have no degrees of spite, or ill-will to our- 
selves, so we cannot be disposed towards others-as 
we are towards ourselves, till we universally re- 
nounce all instances of spite and ill-will, even in 
the smallest degrees. 

If we had any imperfection in our eyes, that made 
us see any one thing wrong, for the same reason 
they would shew us an hundred things wrong. 

So if we have any temper of our hearts that 


makes us spiteful or ill-natured towards any one. 


man, the same temper will make us envious, and 


spiteful, and ill-natured towards a great many 


more. | 

If therefore we desire this love, we must exer- 
cise our hearts in the love of all, because it is not 
Christian love, till it is the love of all. 


If aman could keep this whole law of love, and 


yet offend in one point, he would be guilty of all. 
For as one allowed instance of injustice destroys 
the justice of all our other actions; so one allowed 
instance of envy, spite, or ill-will, renders all our 
other acts of affection nothing worth. é 

Acts of love, that proceed not from a principle 
of universal love, are but like acts of justice that 
proceed from a heart not disposed to universal jus- 
tice. ! 

s 2 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 209. 


os 1! Se 

210.  .« SERIOUS CALE =P Ye 
». 9. Now, thewnoblest motive to universal tender- 
ness is this, * God is love, and he that dwelleth in 
love dwelleth in God.” — ay Capa er 40 
_ Who therefore, whose heart has any tendency 
towards: God, would not aspire after this divine 
temper ? » foie 

How should-we rejoice in the exercise of this 
love, which is an assurance to us, that we act ac- 
cording to his spirit, who is love itself! =» 

God willeth the happiness of all beings, though 

it is no happiness to himself; therefore we must 
desire the happiness of all beings, though “no-hap- 
piness cometh to us from it. > RE aR BS 

God equally delighteth in the perfections of all 

his creatures; therefore we should rejoice in those 
perfections, wherever we see them, and bevas glad 
to have other people perfect as ourselves. 

- 10. God, besides his own great example of love, 
which ought to draw all his creatures after it, has 
so provided for us, and made our happiness so com- 
mon to us all, that we have no occasion to envy or 
hate one another. ; ran ee UA 

Kor we cannot stand in one another’s way ; or by 
enjoying our true good, keep another from his full 
share of it. j PY plats 

As we cannot be happy,’but in the enjoyment of © 

God ; so we cannot rob one another of this~ hap- 
piness. Le 

And as to other things, the enjoyments of this 
life, they are so little in themselves, so foreign to 
‘eur happiness : and, generally speaking, so contra- 
ry to that which they appear to be, that they are 
no foundation for envy or hatred. 

How silly it would be to envy a man,*that» was 
drinking poison out of a golden cup! And yet who 

_ can say, that he is acting wiser than thus, when he 
is envying any instance of worldly greatness? — 
11. How many saints has adversity sent to heay- 


“TO A HOLY LIFE. ~ 211 


en? And how many’sinners has prosperity 'plung- 
ed into everlasting misery? A man seems to be in 
the most glorious patcliien he has conquered, dis- 
graced and humbled his enemy ; though it may be, 
that same conquest has saved his adversary, and 
undone himself. 

This man had perhaps never been debauched, 
but for his fortune and advancement; that had 
never been pious, but through his poverty and dis- 
grace. 

She that is envied for her beauty, may, pre- 
chance owe all her misery to it; and another may 
be for ever happy, for having had no admirers of her 
person. 

One man succeeds in every thing, and so loses 
all: Another meets with nothing but crosses and 
disappointments, and thereby gains more than all 
the world is worth. 

This clergyman may be undone by his being 
madea bishop ; and that may save both himself and 
others, by being fixed to his poor vicarage. 

How envied was Alexander, when conquering 
the world; he built towns, set up his statues, and 
Jeft marks of his glory in so many kingdoms! 

And how despised was the poor preacher St. 
Paul, when he was beaten with rods! And yet how 
strangely was the world mistaken in their judg- 
ment! How much to be envied was St. Paul! How 
much to be pitied was Alexander! 

These few reflections shew, that the different 
conditions of this life have nothing in them to ex- 
cite our uneasy passions, nothing that can reasona- 
bly interrupt our love and affection to one another. 

12. To proceed now to another motive of this 
universal love. 

Our power of doing external acts of love, is/often 
very narrow and restrained. There are, it may 


-é 


- e.} 


a 
7 


212 = A SERIOUS| CALL Aca 


7 ae BY 
be, but few people to whom we can contribute any. 
worldly relict. . Cr ee 
But though our outward means of doing good are 
often thus limited, yet if our hearts are full of love, 
we get as it were, an infinite power; because God 
will attribute to us those good works, which we 
would have performed, had it been in our power. 
- You cannot heal all the sick, relieve all the poor ; 
you cannot comfort all in distress, nor bea father 
to all the fatherless. You cannot, it may be, de~ 
liver many from their misfortunes, or teach them to _ 
find comfort in God. ast 
But if there isa love in your heart, that excites 
you todo all that you can; if your love has no 
bounds, but continually wishes and prays for the 
relief of all that are in distress, you will be receiv- 
ed by God as a benefacior to those, who had noth- 
ing from you but your good will, and tender affec- 
tions. e 
You cannot build hospitals for the incurable ; but 
if you join in your heart with those that do; if 
you are a friend to those great friends to mankind, 
and rejoice in their eminent virtues, you will -be 
_ received by God as a sharer of such good works, 
as though they had none of your hands, yet had 
all your heart. 

This consideration surely is sufficient to make 
us watch over our hearts with all diligence; and 
aspire after the height of a loving, charitable, and 
benevoient mind. 

13. And, on the other hand, we may hence learn 
the great evil of envy, spite, hatred, and ill-will, 
For if the goodness of our hearts will entitle us to 
the reward of good actions, which we never per- 
formed ; it is cevtain that the badness of our hearts 
will bring us under the guilt of actions that we have 
never committed. iy ee 

_ As he that lusteth after a woman shall be. reck- 


TO A HOLY LIFE. DIS. 


oned an adulterer, though he has only committed 
the crime in his heart; so the malicious, spiteful, 
- ill-natured' man, that only secretly rejoices at evil, 


shall be reckoned a murderer, though he has shed | 


noblood. aha 

Since therefore our hearts, which are always 
naked and open to the eyes of God, give such an 
exceeding extent and increase, either to our vir- 
tues or vices, it is our greatest business to govern 
the motions of our hearts, to correct and «mprove 
the inward state of our souls. + NS 

14. Now there is nothing that so much exalts our 
souls, as this heavenly love; it cleanses and pu- 
rifies like a holy fire, and all ill tempers fall away 
before it. By love, I do not mean any natural tens 
derness, which is more or less in peop!e, according 
to their constitutions ; but.a larger principle of the 
soul, which makes us kind to all our fellow-crea- 
tures, as creatures of God, and for his sake. 

It is this love that loves allthings in God, as his 
creatures, as the images of his power, as the crea- 
tures of his goodness, as parts of his family, as 


members of his society, that becomes a holy prin- — 


ciple of all great and good actions. 

These reasons sufficiently shew, that no love is 
holy, or religious, till it becomes universal. 

For if religion requires me to love all persons, 
as God’s creatures, that belong to him, that bear 
his image, enjoy his protection, and make parts of 
his family and household; If these are the great 
reasons why I should live in love with any one 
man inthe world, they are the same great reasons 
why I should live in love with every man in the 
world ; and consequently, I offend against all these 
reasons, whenever | want love towards any one 
man. ‘The sin therefore of hating or despisingaaah 
one man, is like the sin of hating all God’s crea- 
tion; and the necessity of loving any one man, is 


% 


Be 


214 A SERIOUS CALL s 


the same necessity of loving every man in the world. 
And though many people may appear to us ever 
so sinful, odious .. extravagant in their conduct, 
we must never look upon that as_ the least motive 
for any contempt or disregard of them; but look 
upon them with the greater compassion, as being 
in the most pitiable condition that can be. ABS 
. 15. As it was the sins of the world, that made the 
Son of God become a compassionate suffering Ad- 
vocate for all mankind; so no one is of the spirit of 
Christ, but he that has the utmost compassion for 
sinners. And you have never less reason to be’ 
pleased with yourself, than when you find yourself 
most offended at the behaviour of others. All sin 
is certainly to be hated; but then, we must set 
ourselves against sin, as we do against sickness 
and diseases, by shewing ourselves tender and com- 
passionate to the sick and diseased. oy 

All other hatred of sin, which does not fill the 
heart with the softest, tenderest affections towards 
persons miserable in it, is the servant of sin at the 
same time that it seems tobehating it, = 

And there is no temper which even good men 


on 


. ought more carefully to guard against than this.— 


For it is a temper that lurks under the cover of ma- 
ny virtues, and by being unsuspected, does the 
more mischief. se ay an 
Aman naturally fancies, that it is his own love of 
virtue that makes him not able to bear with those 
that want it; and when he abhors one man, despi- 
ses another, and cannot bear the name ofa third, 
he supposes it all to be a proof of his own high 
sense of virtue, and just hatred of sin. ie 
And yet one would think that a man needed no 
other cure for this temper, than this one reflection. 
That if this had been the spirit of the Son of God, 


- if he had hated sin in this manner, there had been 


‘no redemption of the world: if God had hated sin- 


or 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 215. 


ners in this manner, the world itself had ceased 
long ago. v Teh 

This therefore we may take for a certian rule, (} 
that the more we partake of the divine nature, and ° 
the higher our sense of virtue is, the more we shall 
compassionate those that want it. ‘The sight of 
such people will then instead. of raising in us a 
haughty contempt, or peevish indignation towards 
them, fill us with such bowels of compassion, as 
when we see the miseries of an hospital. 

16. That the follies therefore, and ill-behaviour 
of our fellow creatures, may not lessen that love 
which we are to have for all mankind, we should 
often consider the reasons on which this duty of 
love is founded. 

Now we are to love our neighbour, that is, all 
mankind, not because they are wise, holy, or vir= 
tuous ; for all mankind never was, nor ever will be 
50. . 

Again, if their goodness were the reason of our 
being obliged to love people, we should have no 
rule to proceed by ; because though some people’s 
virtues or vices are notorious, yet, generally speak- — 
ing, we are but ill judges of the virtue of other 

eople. 

Thirdly, We are sure that the virtue of persons 
is not the reason of our being obliged to love them, 
because we. are commanded to pay the highest in- 
stances of love to our worst enemies; we are to 
Jove, and bless, and pray for those that most inju- 
riously treat us. This therefore is demonstration, 
that the merit of persons is not the reason on which 
our obligation to love them is founded. ane 

Let us farther consider what that love is wl h 
we owe to ourneighbour. It isto love him as our- 
selves, thatis, to wish him every thing that we may 
lawiully wish to ourselves; to be glad of every 
good, and sorry for every evil that happens to him; 


= 


216 A SERIOUS ‘CALL 


and to be ready to do him all such act of kindness, 
as we are always ready to do to ourse Ivey: * 6 

This love therefore you see, is nothing: buta 
love of | benevolence ; it require nothing of us but 
good wishes, tender affections, ot ro such acts. “id 
Kindness, as we shew to ourselves. rag NY 

17. Now we are obliged to this love, in feitatibt 
nif God’s goodness, that we may be children of aj 
Father which is in heaven, who willeth the happi- » 
ness of all his creatures, and maketh his sun tose : 
on the evil.andon the good. 

Again, our redemption by Jesus Christ, calleth us 
to the exercise of this love, who came fron heaven, 
and laid down his life, out of love to the ee sin- 
ful world. 

Lastly, Our Lord and Saviour has recainel us to 
love one another, as he loved us. 

These are the great perpetual reasons, on Reich 
_our obligation to love all mankind as ourselves. is 
founded. 

These reasons never vary ; they: always cahlidie 
in»their full force ; and therefore equally oblige at 
all times, and in regard to all persons... groe 

God loves us, not because we are wise, and ‘g00d, 
and holy, but in pity to us, because we want’ this 
happiness. He loves us, in order to make us good. 
Our love therefore must take this course ; not look- 
ing for, or requiring the merit of our : brethren, 
but pitying their disorders, and wishing them ¢ all 
the good that they want, and are capable’ of neceiv- 
in 

obs. You will perhaps ask, if you are fot saci 
ie particular esteem for good men? Yes: but this . 
esteem is very different from that love of benevo- 
lence which we owe to our neighbour, = 

The distinction betwixt love of benevolence and 
Tecate is plain and obvious. ‘ a 

No man is to have a high esteem bor his own ac- 


TO A HOLY LIFE. eA Wy 


complishments or behaviour; yet every man is to 
love himself, that is, to wish well to himself; there- 
fore this distinction between love and esteem, is 
not only plain, but very necessary to be observed. 

Again, if you think it hardly possible to dislike 
the actions of unreasonable men, and yet have a 
true love for them, consider this with relation to 
yourself. 

It is very possible for you not only to dislike, but 
to detest and abhor a great many of your own past 
actions. But do you then lose any of those tender 
sentiments towards yourself, which you used to 
have? Do you then cease to wish well to yourself? 
Is not the love of yourself as strong then as at any 
other time ? 

Now what is thus possible with relation to our- 
selves, is possible with relation to others. We may 
have the highest good wishes towards them, desir- 
ing for them every good that we desire for ourselves, 
and yet at the same time dislike their way of life. 

19. Toconclude: all that love which we may 
justiy have for ourselves, we are in strict justice 
obliged to exercise towards all other men; and we 
offend against the great law of our nature, when our 
tempers towards others are different from those 
which we have towards ourselves. 

Now that self-love which is just and reasonable, 
keeps us constantly tender, compassionate, and 

‘well affected towards ourselves. If therefore you 
do not feel these kind dispositions towards all 
other people, you may be assured that you are not 
in that state of charity, which is the very life and 
soul of christian piety. 

You know how it hurts you, to be made the jest 
and ridicule of other people ; how it grieves you 
to be robbed of your reputation ; if therefore you 
expose others to scorn and contempt in any de- 
gree; if it pleases you to see or hear of their frail- 

T 


- 


s . 
218. A SERIOUS CALL 


ties and infirmities ; or if you are only loth to con- 
ceal their faults, you are so far from loving such 
people as yourself, that you may be justly supposed 
to have as much hatred for them, as you have love 
for yourself. For such tempers are as truly the 
proper fruits of hatred, as the contrary tempers are 
the proper fruits of love. 

_And as itis a certain sign that you love yourself, 
because you are tender of every thing that con- 
cerns you; so it is as certain’a sign that you hate 
your neighbour, when you are pleased with any 
thing that hurts him. | 


=e 
CHAPTER XVII. 


Of the necessity and benefit of intercession, consider- 
ed as an exercise of universal love. How all or- 
ders of men are to intercede with God for one an- 

other. How such intercession amends and reforms 
the heart. ; 


1. "T'nar intercession isa great and necessary 
part of Christian devotion, is yery evident from 
scripture. 

The first followers of Christ seem to support all 
their love, by prayers for one another. 

St.Paul, whether he writes to churches or par- 
ticular persons, shews that they are the constant 
subject of his prayers. . 

Thus to the Philippians, “ I thank my God upon 
every remembrance of you; always in every pray- 
er of mine for you all, making request with joy.” 
Phil.:i,;4, Saree" 

His devotion had also the same care for particu- 
lar persons, as appears by the following passage : 
“J thank my Cod, whom | serve from my fore-fath- 
ers, with a p: re conscience that without ceasing if 
_ have rememb:ance of thee in my prayers night and 


Se me 
% hae 


TO A HOLY LIFE; 219 


day.” 2 Tim. i. 3. How holy an acquaintance 
and friendship was this, how worthy of persons that 
were raised above the world, and related to one an+ 
other, as new members of a kingdom of heaven! 
_ 2, Apostles and great saints did not only thus 
bless particular churches, and private persons ; but 
they themselves also received graces from God 
by the prayers of others. Thus saith St. Paul to 
the Corinthians, “ You also helping together by 
prayers for us, that for the gift bestowed upomus by 
the means of many persons, thanks may be given 
by many on our behalf.” 2 Cor. i. 11. 

This was the ancient friendship of Christians, 
uniting and cementing their hearts, not by worldly 
considerations, or human passions, but by the mu- 
tual communication of spiritual blessings, by pray- 
ers and thanksgivings to God for one another. 

It was this holy intercession that raised Chris- 
tians to such a state of mutual love, as far exceed- 
ed all that had been admired in human friendship. 
And when the same spirit of intercession is again 
in the world, this holy friendship will be again 
in fashion, and Christians will be again the wonder 
of the world, for that exceeding love which they 
bear to one another. 

For a frequent intercession with God, earnestly 
beseeching him to forgive the sins of all man- 
kind, to bless them with his providence, enlighten 


them with his Spirit, and bring them to everlasting. ~ 
happiness, is the divinest exercise that the heart. 


of man can be engaged in. 

3. Be daily therefore on your knees, ina solemn, 
deliberate performance of this devotion, praying 
for others with such length, importunity, and earn- 
estness, as you use for yourself; and you will find 
all little, ill-natured passions die away; and your 
heart will delight in the common happiness of oth« 
ers, as you used only to delight in your own. 

For it is hardly possible for you to beseech God 


ae et 


220 A SERIOUS CALL 


to make any one happy in his glory to all eternity, 
and yet be troubled to see him enjoy the much 
smaller gifts of God in this life. _ 

But the greatest benefits of intercession are then 
received, when it descends to such particular in- 
stances as our state and condition in life more par- 
ticularly require of us. 

Though we are to treat all mankind as neighbours 
and brethren, as occasion offers ; yet as we can on- 
ly live in the actual society of a few, and are more 
particularly related to some than others; so when 
our intercession is mad¢ an exercise of love and 
care for those amongst whom our lot is fallen, or 
who belong to us in a nearer relation, it then be- 
comes the greatest benefit to ourselves. 

If therefore you should always alter your inter- 
cessions, according as the needs of your neighbours 
or acquaintance require; beseeching God to de- 
liver them from such or such particular evils, or te 
grant them, this or that particular gift, or blessing ; 
such intercessions, besides the great charity of 
them, would have a mighty effect upon your own 
heart. iP 

4. This would make it pleasant to you to. be 
courteous, civil, and condescending to al] about you, 
and make you unable to say or doa rude or hard 
thing to those for whom you had used yourself te 
be so kind and compassionate in your prayers. 

For there is nothing that makes us love a man so 
much, as praying for him; and when you can once 
do this sincerely for any man, you have fitted your 
soul for the performance of every thing that is kind 
and civil towards him. This will fill your heart 
with a generosity and tenderness, that will give 
you a better and sweeter behaviour, than any 


thing that is called fine breeding and good man- 
ners. i 3 = 


By considering yourself as an advocate wil 


——o © 


TO A HOLY LIFE. -22) 
for your neighbours and acquaintance, you would 
never find it hard to be at peace with them your- 
self. It would be easy to you to bear with, and for- 

ive those, for whom you particularly implored the 
ivi mercy and forgiveness. ay 

Such prayers as these amongst neighbours and 
acquaintance, would unite them to one another in 
the strongest bonds of love and tendernéss. It 
would teach them to consider one another in a 
higher state, as members of a spiritual society, 
that are created for the enjoyment of the common 
blessings of God and fellow heirs of the same 

lory. ° cree 
. And by being thus desirous that every one should 
have their full share of the favours of God, they 
would be glad to see one another happy in the lit- 
tle enjoyments of this life. 

5. Ouranius is a holy priest, full of the spirit of 
the gospel, watching, labouring, and praying for a 

‘poor country village. Every soul init is as dear to 
him as himself; and he loves them all, as he loves 
himself, because he prays for them all, as often as 
he prays for himself. 

If his, whole life is one continual exercise of great 
zeal and labour, hardly ever satisfied with any de- 
grees of care and watchfulness, it is because he has 
learned the great value of souls, by so often ap- 
pearing before God as an intercessor for them. 

He never thinks he can love or do enough for his 
flock ; because he never considers them in any oth- 
er view, than as so many persons, that, by receiy- 
ing the gifts and graces of God, are to become his 
hope, his joy, and his crown of rejoicing. 

He goes about his parish, and visits every body 
in it: but visits inthe same spirit of piety that he 
preaches to them: he visits them to encourage 
their virtues, to assist them with his advice, to dis- 
cover their manner of life and to know the state of 

T2 


292. A SERIOUS CALL 


their souls, that he may intercede with God for 
them, according to their particular necessities. 

6. When Ouranius first entered into holy orders, 
he hada haughtiness in his temper, a great con- 
tempt for all foolish and unreasonable people: but 
he has prayed away this spirit, and has now the 
' greatest tenderness for the most obstinate sinners ; 
because he is always hoping that God will sooner 
or later hear those prayers that he makes for their 
repentance. 

The rudeness, ill-nature, or perverse behaviour 
of any of his flock, used at first to betray him inte 
impatience ; but it now raises no other passion in 
him, than a desire of being upon his knees in pray- 
er to God for them. 

Thus have his prayers for others altered and 
amended the state of his own heart. 

It would delight you to see with what spirit he 
converses, with what tenderness he reproves, with 


what affection he exhorts, and with what vigour he. 


preaches; and it is all owing to this, because he 
reproves, exhorts, and preaches to those, for whom 
he first prays to God. 

This devotion softens his heart, enlightens his 
mind, sweetens his temper, and makes every thin 
that comes from him, instructive, amiable, an 
affecting. ' 

7. At his first coming to this little village, it was 
as disagreeable to him as a prison, and every day 
seemed too tedious to be endured in so retired a 
place. He thought his parish was too full of poor 
and mean people, that were none of them fit for 
the conversation of a gentleman. 

This put him upon a close application to his 
studies. He kept much at home, wrote notes upon 
Homer and Platus, and sometimes thought it hard 
io be called to pray by any poor body, when he 
‘was just in the midst of one of Homer’s battles. 

This was his polite, or 1 may rather say, poor, 


’ 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 295 


ignorant turn of mind, before devotion had got the 
government of his heart. ; 

But now his days are so far from being tedious, 
or his parish too great a retirement, that he only 
wants more time to do that variety of good which 
his soul thirsts after. The solitude of his little par- 
ish is become matter of great comfort to him, be- 
cause he hopes that God has placed him and his 
flock there, to make it their way to heaven. 

He can now not only converse with, but gladly 
wait upon the poorest kind of people. He is now 
daily watching over the weak, humbling himself to 
perverse, rude, ignorant people, wherever he can 
find them; and is so far from desiring to be con- 
sidered as a gentleman, that he desires to be used 
as the servant of all; and in the spirit of his Lord 
and Master girds himself, and is glad to kneel down 
and wash any of their feet. 

He now thinks the poorest creature in his parish 
good enough, and great enough to deserve the hum- 
blest attendances, the kindest friendship, the tender- 
est offices, he can possrbly shew them. 

He is so far now from wanting agreeable com- 
pany, that he thinks there is no better conyersa- 
tion in the world, than to be talking with poor and 
mean people about the kingdom of heaven. 

All these noble thoughts and divine sentiments 
are the effects of his great devotion; he presents 
every one so often before God in his prayers, that 
he never thinks he can esteem, or serve those 
enough, for whom he implores so many mercies 
from God. 

8. Ouranius is mightily affected with this passage 
of holy scripture, “The effectual, fervent prayer 
of a righteous man availeth much.”? Jam. y. 16, 

This makes him practise all the arts of holy living, 
and aspire after every instance of piety, that his 
prayers for his flock may have their full force, and 
avail much with God. Re. Ya 


Q94, A SERIOUS CALL 


For this reason, he has sold a small estate that 
he had, and has erected a charitable retirement 
for ancient, poor people, to live in prayer and piety: 
that his prayers being assisted by such good works, 
may pierce the clouds, and bring down blessings 
upon those souls committed to his care. 

_ 9. Ouranius reads how God himself said unto 
Abimelech concerning Abraham; “ He is a prophet; 
he shall pray for thee, and thou shalt live.” Gen. 
xXx. 7. : 

_ And again, how he said of Job, “ And my ser- 
vant Job shall pray for you; for him will I accept.” 
Job. xlii. 8. 

From these passages Ouranious justly concludes, 
that the prayers of men eminent for holiness, have 
an extraordinary power with God; that he grants 
to other people such blessings, through their pray- 
ers, as would not be granted to men of less piety. 
This makes Ouranius exceeding studious of Chris- 
tian perfection, searching after every grace and ho- 
ly temper, fearful of every error and defect in his 
life, lest his prayers for his flock should be less 
availing with God. 

This makes him careful of every temper of his 
heart, give alms of all that he hath, watch and fast, 
and mortify, and live according to the strictest rules 
of temperance, meekness and humility, that he may 
be in some degree like an Abraham, or a Job, in 
his parish, and make such prayers for them as God 
will hear and accept. . , 

‘These are the happy effects which a devout in- 
tercession hath produced in the life of Ouranious. 

And if other people, in their several stations, 
were to imitate his example, in such a manner as 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 225 


lar wants of their servants; letting no day pass, with- 
out a full performance of this part of devotion; the 
benefit would be as great to themselves, as to their 
servants. | 

No way so likely as this, to inspire them with a 
irue sense of that power which they have in their 
hands, to make them delight in doing good, and be- 
come exemplary in all the parts of a wise and good 
master. € 

The presenting their servants so often before 
God, as equally related to God, and entitled to the 
same heaven as themselves, would incline them to 
treat them not only with such humanity as became 
fellow creatures, but with such tenderness, care, 
and generosity, as became fellow heirs of the same 
glory. This devotion would make masters incline 
to every thing that was good towards their servants; 
be watchful of their behaviour, and as ready to re- 
quire of them an exact observance of the duties of 
christianity, as of the duties of their service. 

This would teach them to consider their servants 
as God’s servants, to desire their perfection, to do 
nothing before them that might corrupt their minds, 
to impose no business upon them that should lessen 
their sense of religion, or hinder them from their 
full share of devotion, both public and private.— 
This praying for them would make them as glad to 
see their servants eminent in piety as themselves, 
and contrive that they should have all opportunities 


and encouragements, both to know and perform all. 


the duties of the Christian life. 

11. How natural would it be for such a master, 
to perform-every part of family devotion; to have 
constant prayers ; to excuse no one’s absence from 


from them; to have the scriptures and books of pi- 


ety often read among his servants ; to take all op- 

portunities of instructing them, of raising their 

minds to God, and teaching them to do all their bu- 
> = 


’ 


226 A SERIOUS CALL 


siness as a service to God, and upon the hopes and 
expectations of another life ? 

How natural would it be for such a one to pily 
their weakness and ignorance, to bear with the dul- 
ness of their understandings, or the perverseness of 
their tempers; to reprove them with tenderness, 
exhort them with affection, as hoping that God 
would hear his prayers for them ? 

How impossible would it be fora mately ‘that 
thus interceded with God for his servants, to use 
any unkind tbreatnings towards them, to damn and 
curse them as dogs and scoundrels, and treat them 
only as dregs of the creation? 

This devotion would give them another spirit, 
and make them consider how to make proper re- 
turns of care, kindness, and protection to those who 
had spent their strength and time in service and 
attendance upon them. 

12. Now if gentlemen think it too low an em- 
ployment to exercise such a devotion 2 
their servants, let them consider how feeihey are 
from the e spirit of Christ, who made himself not on- 
ly an intercessor, but a sacrifice for the whole race 
of sinful mankind ? 

Let them consider how miserable their greatness 

- would be, if the Son of God should think it as much 
below him to pray for them, as they do to pray” ‘for 
their fellow-creatures. 

_ Let them consider how far they are from that 
a) pirit, which prays for its most unjust enemies, if 
‘they have not kindness enough to pray for those, 
by whose labours and yeh they live in ease | 
themselves, . . ; “4 

13. Again: if parents | 
selves adovocates and interce 
their children, . constantly appl ying to hebieen in) 
behalf of them, nothing would Me more likely, not 
only to bless their children, but also to dispose 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 227 


their own minds to the performance of every thing 
that was excellent and praise-worthy. 

Ido not suppose, but that the generality of pa- 
rents remember their children in their prayers.— 
But the thing here intended, is not a general remem- 
brance of them, but a regular method of recom- 
mending all their particular needs unto God; and 
of praying for every such particular grace and 
virtue for them as their state and condition of life 
shall seem to require. 

The state of parents isa holy state, in some 
degree like that of the priesthood, and calls upon 
them to bless their children with their prayers and 
sacrifices to God. Thus it was that holy Job 
watched over, and blessed his children, he ‘* sanc- 
tified them, he rose up early in the morning, and 
offered burnt offerings, according to the number of 
them all.”? Job. 1. 5. 

If parents therefore, considering themselves in 
this light, should be daily calling upon God in aso- 
lemn, deliberate manner, altering and extending 
their intercessions as the state suck growth of their 
children required, such devotion would have a 
mighty influence upon the rest of their lives; it 
would make them very circumspect in the govern- 
ment of themselves ; prudent and careful of every 
thing they said or did, lest their example should 
hinder that which they so constantly desired in 
their prayers. 3 

14. Ifa father was daily making particular pray- 
ers to God, that he would pica lio joiien het 
children with true piety, great humility and strict 
temperance, what could be more likely to make the 
father himself become exemplary in these virtues ? 
How naturally would he grow ashamed of wanting 
such virtues, as he thought necessary for his chil- 
dren? So that his prayers for their piety would be 
a certain means of exalting his own. _ %. 

_ Tf a father thus considered himself Saige ater- 


293 A SERIOUS CALL 


cessor with God for his children, to bless them with 
his prayers, how would such thoughts make him 
avoid every thing that was displeasing to God, lest 
when he prayed for his children, God should reject 
his prayers ? me 

How tenderly, how religiously would such a fa- 
ther converse with his children, whom he consider- 
ed as his little spiritual flock, whose virtues he was 


th, 


to form by his example, encourage by his authority, 
nourish by his counsel, and prosper by his prayers 
to God for them. . 

How fearful would he be of all unjust ways of 
raising their fortune, of bringing them up in pride 
and indulgence, or of making them too fond of the 
world, lest he should thereby render them incapable 
ofthose graces which he was so ofien beseeching 
God to grant them. 

15. Lastly, If all people, when they feel the first 
approaches of resentment, envy, or contempt, to- 
wards others; or if in all little disagreements and 
misunderstandings whatever, they should, instead of 
indulging their minds withlittle, low reflections, have 
recourse to a more particular intercession with God, . 
for such persons as had raised their envy, resent- 
ment, or discontent; this would be a certain way 
to prevent the growth of all uncharitable tempers 

If you was always to form your prayer at tha 
‘time to the greatest degree of contrariety to that 
temper which you was then in, it would be an excel- 
lent means of mending your heart. 

As for instance; when at any time you find in 

your heart motions of envy towards any person, 

whether on account of his.riches, power, reputation, 
learning, or advancement, if you should immediate- 
ly pray to God to bless and prosper him in that ve- 
ry thing which raised your envy; if you should re- — 
peat your petitions in the strongest terms, beseech- ~ 
ing God to grant him all the happiness from the en- — 
joyment of it that can possibly be received, you — 


a 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 299 


would soon find it to be the best antidote in the world 
to expel the yenom of that passion. 
Again: If in any little difference or misunder- 
‘Sadie ‘that you happened to have at any time 
- with a relation, a neighbour, or.any one else, you 
should then pray for them in a more extraordinary 
manner than you ever did before, beseeching God 
to give them every grace and blessing you can think 
of, you would take the speediest method of recon- 
ciling all differences, and clearing up all misunder- 
standings. You would then think nothing too great 
to be forgiven, stay for no condescensions, need no 
mediation of a third person ; but be glad to testify 
your love and good-will to him, who had so high a 
place in your secret prayers. 
This would remove all. peevish passions, soften 
our heart into the most tender condescensions, and 
be the best arbitrator of all differences that happen- 
ed betwixt you and any of your acquaintance. ~ 

16. Hence we may also learn the odious nature 
of all spite, hatred, contempt, and angry passions. 
They are not to be considered as defects in good- 
nature, not as failings in civility or good-breeding, 
but as such base tempers as are entirely inconsist- 
tent with the charity of intercession. ; 

You think it a small matter to be peevish or iil- 
natured to such er sucha man; but you should con- 
sider, whether it be a small matter to do that which 
you could not do, if you had but so much charity as 
to be able to recommend him to God in your prayers. 

You think it a small matter to ridicule one man, 
and despise another; but you should consider, 
whether it be a small matter to want that charity to- 
wards these people, which Christians are not allow- 
ed to want towards their most inveterate enemies. 

For, be but as charitable to these men, do but 
bless and pray for them, as you are obliged to bless 

and pray for your enemies, and then you will find 


Ph] 
4 


230 oh senious CAEL te 


_ that you have charity ‘enough, to m 
ble for you to ippeat them ca Bry ‘ 
or contempt. — ; 

For you cannot possibly 
man, whom your private pra 
love and favour of God, 8 

When you despise and ridicul 
no other end, but to make him ri 
temptible in the eyes of other 
fore can it be possible for you sincerel 
God to bless that man with the honour « 
and favour, whom you desire, men to RAED Ww 
thy oftheir contempt? — 

Could you, outof love toa roe eat aoa your 
prince to honour him with his esteem and - favour, 
and yet at the same time expose him. to the scorn 
and derision of your own servants? = 

Yet this is as possible, as to ex pose that man to 
the scorn and contempt of your fellow-creatures, 
whom you recommend to the favour of Godin peur 
secret prayers. 

17. You cannot despise a- brother; without de- 
spising him that stands in a high relation to God, to 
his Son Jesus Christ, and to the holy Trinity. ine 

You would certainly think it a mighty impiety to 
treat a writing with contempt, that had been writ- 
. ten by the finger of God; and can you think ita. 

_ impiety to contemn a brother, who is. not only the 
workmanship, but the image of God? 

You would justly think it great prophaneness, to 
contemn and trample upon an altar, because it was 
appropriated to holy uses, and had had the body of 
Christ so often placed upon it; and can. you, sup- e 
pose it to» be less prophaneness, ORS & and — 
trample upon a brother, who so-belongs t oe 
ah the henite chin ey 


his very body is the “ ae 
3 Cor. vi. 15. “ 


TO A HOLY LIFE. h 931 


of true friendship, the best cure and preservative 


against all unkind tempers, all angry and haughty 
passions, but is also of great use to discover to u 
the true state of our own hearts. 
There are many tempers which we think lawful 
and innocent, which we never suspect of any harm ; 
which if they were to be tried by this devotion, 
would soon shew us how we have deceived our- 
selves. cere i” 
Susurrus is a pious, temperate man, remarkable 
for abundance of excellent qualities. No one more 
constant at the service of the church, His charity 
is so great that he almost starves himself, to be able 
to givegreateralmstothepoor. —— . 
19. Yet Susurrus hada prodigious failing, along 
with these great virtues. : 
He had a mighty inclination to hear and discover 
all the defects and infirmities of allabout him. You 
was welcome to tell him any thing of any body, pro- 
vided that you did not do it in the Sle of an ene- 
my. He never disliked an evil speaker, but when 
his language was rough and passionate. If you 
would but whisper any thing gently, though it was 
ever so bad, Susurrus was ready to receive it. 
When he visits, you generally hear him relating, 
how sorry he is for the failings of such a neighbour. 
He is always letting you know, how tender he is of 
the reputation of his neighbour; how loth to say 
that which he is forced to say ; and how gladly he 
would conceal it, if it could be concealed. 
Susurrus had such a tender, compassionate man- 
ner of relating things the most prejudicial to h 


neighbour, that he even seemed, both to himself and 


others, to be exercising a Christian charity at the 
same time that he was indulging a whispering, evil 
speaking temper. : 

Susurrus once whispered to a particular friend 
in great secrecy, something too bad to be spoken 
of publicly. He ended with saying, how glad he 


he i of ? ee ae "Wea. ak 
‘ ris, ‘sh gl 
939 a seRious CALL Re : ’ 


was, that it had not yet took wind, a 
some hopes it might not be true, thoug 
ee were very strong. Hi ve ma 


‘ B 
tei say, Susurrus, that ye are 
iy et taken’ whe and that you ha’ ve 
- may not prove true. Go home the 
closet, and pray to God for this man, i in su 
ner, and with such earnestness a8 you | wou 
for yourself on the like occasion. == = 
Besecch God to interpose in his favo r, to sare | 
him from false aceusers, and bring a lihose to shame, | 
who, by uncharitable whispers, and secret stories, 
wound him, like those that stab in the dark. And | 

when you haye made this prayer, then’ yo ou may if 
you please, go tell the same secret t¢ f me other | 
friend, that you h have told to me. : 


: “20. Susurrus | was exceedin; ral 


in as lively: a ‘manner, as if Ne had : seen n the books 
opened at the day of judgment. se) ek 

All other arguments might have. been neiek : 
but-it was impossible for Susurrus either to reject, 
or follow this advice, without being equally self- + 
condemned in the highestdegree. 

From that time to this, he has constantly used 
himself to this method of intercession; and his heart 
is so entirely changed by it, that he can now no 
more siletasele™ whisper any thing to the prejudice 
of apather, than he can openiaarey to God to <6 i 


A 
-_ 


oe ike oaths and curses ; and he has appa 
one day inthe week, to be a day of penance a 
as he lives, to homtita himself before G¢ yd, in 
sorrowful confession of his former guilt. : 
It may be well wondered, how @ man 
piety as Susurrus, could be so acne in 


as to liye in ‘such & a state of scandal and evil peak 


¢ 4 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 233: 


ing, without suspecting himself to be guilty of o%) 


But it was the tenderness and seeming compassion, 
with which he heard and related every thing, that 
deceived both himself and others. 
This was a falseness of heart, which was fully 
discovered by the true charity of intercession. _ 
_And if people of virtue, who think as little harm 


of themselves as Susurrus did, were often to try . 


their spirit by such an intercession, they would 
often find themselves to be such, as they least of 
all suspected, 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


Recommending devotion at three o'clock, called in 


scripture the ninth hour of the day. The subject _ 


of prayer at this hour may be resignation to the 
divine pleasure. The nature and duty of con- 
fornuty to the will of God in all our actions and 
designs. : 


i. Tuzne is nothing wise, or holy, or just, but the 
great will of God. This is as strictly true, as that 
nothing is infinite and eternal but God. 

No beings therefore, whether in heaven or on 
earth, can be wise, or holy, or just, but so far as 
they conform to this will of God. It is conformity 
to this will, that gives virtue and perfection to the 
highest services of angeis in heaven ; and it is con- 
formity to the same will, that makes the ordinary 
actions of men on earth become an acceptable ser- 


vice unto God. Be ad 


The whole nature of virtue consists in conform- 
ing, and the whole nature of vice in declining from 
the will of God. All God’s creatures are created 

_ to fulfil his will; the sun and moon obey his will by 
_ the necessity of their nature; angels conform to his 
will by the perfection of their nature: if therefore 


“you would shew yourself not to be a rebel and. 


v2 


- 4 


as you have reason to believe it is the will of God. 
_ 2. °Tis as necessary to think thus of God ‘and 


yourself, as to think that you have any dependance 


uponhim. And it isas great a rebellion against 
God, to think that your will may ever differ from 
his, as to think that you have not received the 
power of willing from him. aie 

You are therefore to consider yourself as a being, 
that has no other business in the world, but to be 
that which God requires you to be; to have no tem- 


_ pers, no rules, no designs of your own, bat to fill 


some place, and act some part in strict conformity, 
and thankful resignation to the divine pleasure. 
To think that you are your own, or at your own 
disposal, is as absurd as to think that you created 
yourself. It is as plain that you are thus God’s, 


that you thus belong to him, and are to act and suf- 
fer all in thankful resignation to his pleasure, as that 


in bim you live, and move, and have your being. 

_ 3. Resignation to the divine will, signifies a cheer- 
ful approbation, and thankful acceptance of every 
thing that comes from God. It is not enough pati- 
ently tosubmit, but we must thankfully receive, and 
fully approve of every thing, that by the order of 
God’s providence happens tous, 

. For there is no reason why we should be patient, 
but what is as strong a reason why we should be 
thankful. If we were under the 
and good physician that could not mistake, ordo 
any thing to us, but what tended to our benefit; it 
would not be enough to be patient, and abstain from 


hands of a wise’ 


5 


murmuring against such a physician ; it would be- ; 


a, 
any 


“I 


| TO 4 HOLY LIFE. 235 
as much a breach of gratitude, not to be thankful for 


_ what he did, as it would be to murmur at him. 

~ Now this is our true state with relation to God; 
we cannot be said so much as to believe in him, un- 
less we believe him to be of infinite wisdom. Every 
argument therefore for patience under his disposal 
of us, is as strong an argument for thankfulness. 
And there needs no more to dispose us to this grati- 
tude towards God, than a full belief in him, that he is 
this being of infinite wisdom, love, and goodness. 

Do but fully assent to this truth, and then you 
will cheerfully approve of every thing that God has 
already approved for you. 

When you are satisfied that God does not only 
do that which is wise, and good, but which is the - 
effect of infinite wisdom and love in the care of you ; 
it will be as necessary to be pleased with every 
thing which God ghuses for you, as.to wish your 
ewn happiness. 

4. Whenever therefore you find yourself disposed 
to murmuring, at any thing that is the effect of 
God’s providence over you, you must look upon 
yourself as denying either the wisdom or goodness 
of God. For every complaint supposes this. You 
would never complain of your neighbour, but that 
you suppose you can shew either his unwise, un- 
just, or unkind behaviour towards you. — | 

_- Now every impatient reflection under the provi- 
dence of God, is the same accusation of God. A 
complaint always supposes ill-usuage. 

Hence you may see the great necessity of this 
thankful state of heart, because the want of it im- 
plies an accusation of God’s want either of wisdom, 
or goodness in his disposal of us. [t is not there- 
fore any high degree of perfection, founded in any 

_ uncommon nicety of thinking, but a plain principle, 
founded in this plain belief, that God is a being of 
infinite wisdom and goodness. ? 

5. This resignation to the divine will, may be 


© 


vi k we i" a % se ee rig ° 
f sd | a a . . “ 7 
936 -. A SERIOUS CALL 


considered in two respects: first, as it si ifies a 
dence, 
ankful 


thankful approbation of God’s general provi 
over the world: secondly, as it signifies a th: 
acceptance of his particular et * as over us. © 
First, every man is, by the first article of his _ 
creed, obliged to acknowledge the wisdom and 
_ goodness of God, in his general providence over 
i. world. He is to believe that it is the effect of 
God’s great wisdom and goodness, that the world 
itself was formed at such a particular i 
such a manner: that the general orde 


in the best manner. He is to believe that God’s i 
providence over states and kingdoms, times and 
seasons, is all for the best: that the revolutions of 
state, and changes of empire, the rise and fall of mo-. ’ 
 narchies, persecutions, wars, famines, and plagues, 
are all permitted and conducted by God’s provi- _ 
dence, to the general good of man in this state of 
trial. 
A good man is to believe all this, with the same 
fulness of assent, as he believes that God is inevery __ 
place, though he neither sees, nor can comprehend — 
the manner of his presence. Meter acs, 
This is a noble maguificence of thought, a true 
greatness of mind, to be thus affected with God’s 
gener rovidence, admiring and magnifying his 
wisdom in all things: never murmuring at the 
course of the world, or the state of eee sn look- 
ing upon all around, at heaven and earth, asapleas- 
ed spectator; and adoring that invisible hand, 
which gives laws to all motions, and over-rules all 
events to ends suitable to the highest wisdom and . 
goodness. : = % S 
6. It is very common for people to allow them- 
selves great liberty in finding fault with such things’ 
as have only God for their cause. a 
Every one thinks he may justly say, whata — 
wretched, abominable climate he lives in. This 
“we 


gues 


a aad a ° 
* 


TO A HOLY LIFE. I3F 


man is frequently telling you, what a disinal cursed 
day it is, and what intolerable seasons we bave. 
‘Another thinks it is hardly worth his while to live 
in a world so full of changes and revolutions. But 
these are tempers of great impiety, and shew that 
religion has not yet its seat in the heart. 

it sounds indeed much better to murmur at the 
course of the world, than to murmur at providence ; 
to complain of the seasons and weather, than to 
compiain of God; but if these have no other cause 
but God, it is a poor excuse to say, that you are. 
only angry at the things, but not at the cause and 
director of them. 

How sacred the whole frame of the wor!d is, how 
all things are to be considered as God’s, and refer- 
red to him, is fully taught by our blessed Lord, in. 
the case of oaths: * But I say unto you, swear 
not at all; neither by heaven, for it is God’s throne ; 
nor by the earth, for it is his footstocl ; neither by 
Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great king, nel- 
ther shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou 


canst not make one hair white or black,’? Matt. v. - 


37. that is, because the whiteness or blackness of 
thy hair is not thine, but God’s. 

Here you see all things in the whole order of na- 
ture, from the highest heavens to the smallest hair, 
are to be considered, not separately as they are in 
themselves, but as in some relation to God. And 
if this be good reasoning, thou shalt not swear by. 
the earth, a city, or thy hair, because these things’ 
are God’s, and in a certain manner belong to him ; 
is iinot the same reasoning to say, Thou shalt not 
murmur atthe seasons of the earth, the states of 


cities, and the change of times, because all these — 


things are in the hands of God, have him for their 
author, are directed and governed by himto such 
ends as are most suitable to his wise providence ? 

For whoso murmurs at the course of the world, 
murmurs- at God that governs the course of the 


wt ~ 
me ; 
fe 


a A SERIOUS CALL _ 
world. Whoso repines at seasons and weather, 
and speaketh impatiently of times and events, 
_repines and speaks impatiently of God, who is the 


sole Lord and Governor of times, seasons, and 


events. Ke . 
7. As therefore when we think of God himself, 
we are to have no senitments detys es and 
- thanksgiving; so when we look at those’ things 
which are under the direction of God, we are to 
receivethem with thesametempers. = 3 = 
And though we are not to think all things right, 
and just, and lawful, which the providence of God 
permits; for then nothing could be unjust, because 
nothing is without his permisson pei the must 
adore God in the greatest public calamities, the 
most grievous persecutions, as things that are suffer- 
ed by, God, like plagues and famines, for ends suita- 
ble to his wisdom and glory in the “government of 
the world. oF PRAT EN 
There is nothing more suitable to the piety of a 
reasonable creature, or the spirit of a Christian, 
than thus to approve, admire and glorify God in all 
the acts of his general providence ; considering the 
whole world as his particular family, and all events 
as directed by his wisdom. ape 
__ Every one seems to consent to this as an undeni- 
able truth. That all things must be as God pleases ; 
and is not this enough to make every man pleased 
with them himself? And how can a man bea pee- 
vish complainer of any thing that is the effect of 


e 


providence, but by shewing that his own will and © 


wisdom are of more weight with him, than the will 
and wisdom of God? And what ean religion be said 
to have done for a man, whose heart is in this state ? 

For if he cannot thank and praise God, as well in 
calamities and sufferings, as in prosperity and hap- 
‘piness, he is as far from the piety of a Christian, as 
he that only loves them that love him, is from the 
charity of a Christian. For to thank God only for 


Pa 


a aa. 


ee ae _ 


TO A HOLY WIFE.. 239 


such things as you like, is no more a proper act of 

' piety. than to believe only what you see, is an act 
OF fatthe woven ey 

8. Thus much concerning resignation to the di- 

vine will, as it signifies a thankful approbation of 

God’s general providence : It is now to be consid- 


ered, as it signifies a thankful acceptance of God’s | 


particular providence over us. 
Every man is to consider himself as a particular 


object of God’s providence ; under the same care 


and protection of God, as if the world had been 
made for him alone. It is not by chance that any 
man is born at sucha time, of such parents, and in 
such place and condition. It is as certain, that ev- 
ery soul comes into the body at such a time, and in 
such circumstances, by the express designment of 
God, according to some purposes of his will, and for 

~ some particular ends ; this is as certain, as that it 
is by the express designment of God, that some be- 
ings are angels, and others are men. 

9. The scriptures assure us, it was by divine ap* 
pointment, that our blessed Saviour was born at 
Bethlehem, and at such a time. Now although it 
was owing to the dignity of his person, and’ the 
great importance of his birth, that thus much of the 
divine counsel was declared to the world concern- 
ing the time and manner of it; yet we are as sure 
from the same scriptures, that the time and manner 
of every, man’s coming into the world, is according 
to the direction of Divine Providence, and in such 
time, and place, and circumstances, as aré directed 
and governed by God, for particular ends of his 
wisdom and goodness. i 

This we are as certain of from plain revelation, 
as we can be of any thing. For if we are told, that 
not a “sparrow falleth to the ground without our 
heavenly Father ;’? can any thing more strongly 
teach us, that much greater beings, such as human 
souls, come not into the world without the care and 


ae 


in 


240 _A SERIOUS CALL 


direction of our heaven! y Father? If it is said, the 


very hairs of your head are all numbered ;” is it 


not to teach us, that nothing, not the smallest things 
imaginable, happen to us by chance? But if the | 
smallest things we.can conceive, are declared to 
be under the divine direction, ‘need we, or can we, 
be more plainly taught that the greatest things of 
life, such as the manner of our coming into the 
world, our parents, the time and other circumstances 
of our birth and condition, are all according to the 
direction and appointment of Divine Providence ? 
10. When the disciples put this question to our 
blessed Lord, concerning the blind man, “ Master, 
who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was 
born blind ?”” He made this answer, ‘* Neither hath 


this man sinned, nor his parents ; but that the works — 
of God should be made manifest in him,”? John ix. 


2, 3. Plainly declaring, that the particular circum- 
stances of every man’s birth, the body that he re- 
ceives, and the state of life into which he is born, 
are appointed by a secret providence, which di- 
rects all things to their particular times and sea- 
sons, and manner of existence, that the wisdom and 
works of God may be made manifest in them all. 
As therefore it is certain, that all that is particu- 
lar in our state, is the effect of God’s particular 
providence over us, and intended for some partic- 
ular ends both of his glory and our own happiness, 
we are by the greatest obligations called upon to 
resign our will to the will of God in all these re- 
spects; thankfully approving and accepting every 
thing that is particular in our state; praising and. 
glorifying his name for our birth of such parents, 
and in such circumstances; being fully a ance 
that it was for some reasons of infinite wisdom and 
goodness, that we were so born info such particu- 
Jar states of life. Fico wet 
11. Ifthe man above-mentioned, was born blind, 
that the ‘works of God might be manifested in 


#0 A HOLY LIFE. B4j 


him,” had he not great reason to praise God for 
appointing him in such a particular manner, to be 
the instrument of his glory? And if one person is 
born here, and another there ; if one falls amongst 
riches, and another into poverty; if one receives 
his flesh and blood from these parents, and another 
from those, for as particular ends, as the man was 
born blind ; have not all people the greatest reason 
to bless God, and to be thankful for their particular 
state and condition, because all that is particular in 
it, is as directly intended for the glory of God, and 
their own good, as the particular blindness of that 
man, who was so born, that “the works of God 
might be manifested in him ?” . 

How noble an idea does this give us of the divine 
Omniscience presiding ever the whole world, and 
governing such a long chain and combination of 
seeming accidents, to the common and. particular 
advantage of all beings? So that all persons, in such 
a wonderful variety of causes and events, should 
fall into such particular states, as were foreseen, and 
fore-ordained to their best advantage, and so as to 
be most serviceable to the wise and glorious ends 
ef God’s government of all the world. 

12. Had you been any thing else than what you 
are, you had, all things considered, been less wise- 
ly provided for than you are now; you had wanted 
some circumstances that are best fitted to make you 
happy yourself, and serviceable to the glory of God. 

Could you see all that which God sees, all that 
happy chain of causes and motives, which are to 
move and invite you to a right course of life, you 
would see something to make you like that state 
you are in, as fitter for you than any other. : 

But as you cannot see this, so it is here that your 
‘trust in God is to exercise itself, and render youas 
thankful for the happiness of your state, as if you 

x oo. 


x 


as 


oe 


242, A SERIOUS ‘LL £% 


; eee age te 

saw every thing that contributes to it with your 
own eyes. Ree Ete. 

But now if this is the case of every man in the 
world, thus blessed with some particular state that 
is most convenient for him, how reasonable is it for 
every man, to will that which God has already will- 
ed for him ; and by a trust in the divine goodness, 
thankfully adore that wise providence, which he is 
sure has made the best choice for him of those 
things, which he could not choose for himself. 
13. Every uneasiness at our own state is founded 
upon comparing it with that of other people. Which 
is full as unreasonable, as if a man in a dropsy 
should be angry at those that prescribe different 
things to him, from those which are prescribed to 


people in health. | For all the different states of life, . 


__ are like the different states of diseases, and what is 
a remedy to one man may be poison to another. 
So that to murmur because you are not as some 
others are, is as ifa man in one disease, should mur- 
mur that he is not treated like him that is in another. 
Whereas, if he was to have his will, he would be 
killed by that, which will prove the cure of another. 
It is just thus in the various conditions of life ; if 
you complain at any thing in your state, you may, 
for aught you know, be so ungrateful to God as to 
murmur at that very thing, which is to prove the 
cause of your salvation. . 
Had you it in your power to get that which you 
think is so grievous to want, it might perhaps be 
that very thing which would expose you to eternal 
damnation. , ‘3 
So that, whether we consider the infinite goodness 


of God, that cannot choose amiss for us, or our own 


great ignorance of what is most advantageous to us, 
there can be nothing so reasonable, as to have no 
will but.that of God’s, and desire nothing for our- 


J 
p 


p 


‘TO A HOLY LIFE. DAS: 


selves, in our persons, our state, and condition, but 
that which the good providence of God appoints us. 

14, Farther, as the good providence of God in- 
troduces us into the world, into such states and con- 
ditions as are most convenient for us; so the same 
unerring wisdom orders all events and changes in 
the whole course of our lives, in such a manner, as 
to render them the fittest means to exercise and im- 
prove our virtue. 

Nothing hurts us, nothing destroys us, but the ill 
use of that liberty, with which God has entrusted us. 

We are as sure that nothing happens to us by 
chance, as that the world itself was not made by 
chance; we are as certain that all things happen, 
and work together for our good, as that God is 
goodness itself. So that a man has as much reason 
to will every thing that happens to him, because 
God wills it, as to think that is wisest which is di- 
rected by infinite wisdom. 

The providence of God is not more concerned in 
the government of night and day, and the variety of 
seasons, than in the common course of events that 
seem most to depend upon the mere wills of men. 
So that it is as strictly right, to look upon all werld- 
ly changes, all the various turns in your own life, 
io be the effects of divine providence, as the rising 
and setting of the sun, or the alterations of the 
seasons of the year. As you are therefore always 
to adore the wisdom of God in the direction of 
‘these things ; so it is the same reasonable duty, al- 
ways to magnify God as an equal director of every 
thing that happens to you in the course of your own 
life. 

15. There is nothing that so powerfully governs 
the heart, as a true sense of God’s presence ; and 
nothing so constantly keeps us under a lively sense 
of the presence of God, as this holy resignation, 
which attributes every thing to him, and receives 
every thing as from him. 


thoughts be affected st a 
tiom of his presence ! But if we ec 
as God’s doing, either by ord permission, we 
shall then be affected with commor things, as they 
pee he who saw a miracle. i a 
_ For as there is nothing to affect youina miracle, . 
_ but as it is the action of God, and bespeaks his pre- -_ 
“sence ; so when you consider God as acting in all 
things, and all events, then all things will become 
venerable to you, like miracles, and fill with 
the same awful sentiments of the divine presence. 
__ 16. Now you must not reserve the exercise of 
this pious temper to any particular times or occa- 
sions, or fancy how resigned you will be to God, if 
such or such trials should happen ; for this is amus- 
ing yourself with the notion of resignation, instead 
of the virtue itself. , 

Do not therefore please yourself with thinking, — 
how piously you would act and submit to Godina ~ 
plague, a famine, or persecution; but be» intent 
upon the perfection of the presentday; and be as=" 
sured, that the best way of shewing a true zeal, is 
to make little things the occasions of great piety.. ] 

Begin therefore in the smallest matters, and most | - 
erdinary occasions, and accustom your mind to the 
daily exercise of this pious temper, in the lowest 
occurrences of life. And when a contempt, an af- 
front, a little injury, loss, or only ake our 


5 , * » 
244 A SERIE nT eae 
| Could et pea as ’ 
ould we pa of ' 


sider every thing 


smallest events of every day continually rai ur 
muind €@ Gad in proper ante of resignation, then 
may justly hope that you shall be payor 
those that are resigned, and thankful to God in 
greatest trials and afflictions. — et / 


Wyn “ 


90 A HOLY LIFE. “245 
are eel _ CHAPTER XIX, 
a ae ee oS ey Lacs 
Of the  excellency and greatness of a devoui spirit. 


1.] wave now finished what I intended in ‘this: 


‘Treatise. Ihave explained the nature of devotion, 
both as it signifies a life devoted to God, andas it 
Stemities a regular method of prayer. I have now 
only to add a word or two, in recommendation of a 
life governed by this spirit. 

And because in this polite age, we have so lived 
away the spirit of devotion, that many seem afraid 
even to be suspected of it, imagining great devotion 
‘to be great bigotry ; that itis founded in ignorance 
and poorness of spirit, and that little, weak, and de- 
jected minds, are generally the greatest proficients 
in it. . 

It shall here be shewn, that great devotion is the 
noblest temper of the greatest and noblest souls ; 
and that they who think it receives any advantage 
from ignorance, are themselves~entirely ignorant 
of the nature of devotion, the nature of God, and 
the nature of themselves.» 

People of fine parts and learning, or of great 
knowledge in worldly matters, may perhaps think 
it hard to have their want of devotion charged upon 
their ignorance. But if they will be content to be 
tried by reason and scripture, it may soon be made 
appear that a want of devotion, wherever it is, 
either amongst the learned or unlearned, is founded 


in gross ignorance, and the greatest blindness and - 


insensibility that can happen to a rational creature. 

And that devotion is so far from being the effect 
of a little and dejected mind, that it must and will 
be always highest in the most perfect natures. 

2. And first, Who reckons it a sign of a poor, lit- 
tle mind, fora man to be full of reverence and duty 
to his parents, to have the iruest love and honour 

x 2 


ik 


246 A SERIOUS CALL 


for his friends, or to excel in the highest instances 

of gratitude to his benefactor? 5 
Are not these tempers in the highest de 

the most exalted and perfect minds? — 
And yet what is high dev 


iat 4 
gree, in 
is a 


Fthé iphest 


exercise of these tempers of erence, love, 
honour, and gratitude to the amiable, glorious pa- 
rent, friend, and benefactor of all mankind? 


Is it a true greatness of mind, to reverence the 
authority of your parents, to fear the displeasure of 
your friend, to dread the reproaches of your bene- 
factor? and must not this fear, and dread, and rev- 
erence, be much more just, and reasonable, and 
honourable, when they are in the highest degree to- 
wards God. . 

So that as long as duty to parents, love to friends, 
and gratitude to benefactors, are thought great and 
honourable tempers; devotion, ‘which is nothing 
else but duty, love, and gratitude to God, must have 
the highest place amongst our highest virtues. 

If a prince out of his mere goodness, should send_ 
you a pardon by one of his slaves, would you think 
it a part of your duty to receive the slave with 
marks of love, esteem and gratitude for his kind- 
ness in bringing you so great a gift; and at the 
same time think 1t a meanness and poorness of spir- 
it, to shew love, esteem and gratitude, to the prince 
who of his own goodness freely sent you the pardon? 

And yet this would be as reasonable, as to sup- 
pose, that love, esteem, honour, and gratitude, are” 
noble tempers, and instances of a great soul, when 
they are paid to our fellow-creatures; but the ef- 
fects of a poor, ignorant mind, when they are paid 
to God. ’ : 

3. Even that part of devotion which expresses 
itself in sorrowiul confessions, and the penitential 
tears of a broken and a contrite heart, is very far 
from heing any sign of a little and ignorant miz 


dail 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 247 


as ts Be 


For who does not acknowledge it an instance of 
an ingenuous, generous, and brave mind, to acknowl- 
edge a fault, and ask pardon for any offence? And 
are not the finest and most improved minds, the most 
remarkable for this excellent temper ? 

Is it not also allowed, that the ingenuousness and 
excellence of a man’s spirit is much shewn, when 
his sorrow and indignation at himself rises in pro- 
portion to the folly of his crime, and the goodness 
and greatness of the person he has offended ? 

Now if things are thus, then the greater any man’s 
mind is, the more he knows of God and himself, the 
more will he be disposed to prostrate himself before 
God in all the humblest acts and expreSsions of re- 
pentance. 

eAnd, the greater the generosity and penetration 
of his mind is, the more will he indulge a passion- 
ate, tender sense of God’s just displeasure ; and the 
more he knows of the greatness, the goodness, and 


perfection of the divine nature, the fuller of shame 


and confusion will he be at his own sins and in- 
gratitude. 

And on the other hand, the more dull and, igno- 
rant any soul is, the more base and ungenerous, the 
more senseless it is of the goodness of God, the more 
averse to humble confession and repentance. 

Devotion therefore is so far from being best suit- 
ed to little, ignorant minds, that a true elevation of 
soul, alively sense of honour, and great knowledge 
of God and ourselves are the greatest helps that 
our devotion hath. ‘ 

4. On the other hand, it shall be made appear 
that indevotion is founded in the most excessive 
ignorance. Sok 

And, First, Our blessed Lord and his apostles 
were eminent instances of great devotion. Now if 
we will grant, (as all Christians must grant) that 
their great devotion was founded in a true know!l- 


OS . A apie cv 


cessive state of ignorance, t 
nor themselves, nor deyotion 
Again; how comes it that mo: P 
‘course to devotion, when they are in sickness, dis-~ 
‘tress, or fear of death? Is it not because this state 
shews them more of the want of God, hire 
weakness, than they perceive at other times ? Is it 
not because their approaching end convi them 
ef something, which they did ot hl perce be- 
ore ? foe’ 
Now if devotion at these seanuuay is” the “effect of 
a better knowledge of God and ourselves, then the - 
neglect of devotion at other times, is owing to “ogg 
rance of God, and ourselves. 
ay.dha Farther, as indevotion is ignorance, so ‘it is 
_the most shameful ignorance, and such as is to be 
"charged with the greatest folly. = = 
This will fully appear to any one that considers 
by what rules we are to judge of the: excellency of 


Kio ete, 


any knowledge, or the shamefulness of any igno- . 


rance. 

Now knowledge itself would be no excellence, 
nor ignorance any reproach tous, but _— are 
pepionel creatures. re 

- It follows plainly, that knowledge adits A most 
“Male to our rational nature, and which most. 
concerns us, as such, to know, is our highest, finest 
knowledge; and that ignorance which relates to 
‘things that are most essential to us, as rational crea- 
tures, and which we are most concerned to know, 
is, of all others, the most gross a shameful eae 
rance. 


6. ha gentleman should cede that ite moon is_ | 


no bigger than it appears to the eye, that it shir 
with its own light, that all the stars are onl} 


‘ 


/TO A HOLY LIFE. » 249 


many spots oflight ; if after reading books of astron- 
omy, he should still continue in the same opinion, 
most people would think he had but a poor appre- 
hension. iP 

But if the same person should’ think it better to . 
provide for a short life here, than to prepare fora 
glorious eternity hereafter, that it was better to be 
rich, than to be eminent in piety, his ignorance and 
dulness would be too great to be compared to any 
thing else. ! vA 

That is the most clear and improved understand- 
ing, which judges best of the value and worth of 
things. All the rest is but the capacity of an ani- 
mal, itis but mere seeing and hearing. 

If a man had eyes that could see beyond the stars, 
or pierce into the heart of the earth, but could not 
see the things that were before him, or discern any 
thing that was serviceable to him, we should reckon 
that he had but a very bad sight. 

If another had ears that received sounds from the 
world in the moon, but could hear nothing that was 
said or done upon earth, we should look upon him 
to be as bad as deaf. 

In like mfanner, if a man has a memory that can 
retain a great many things; if he has a wit that is 
sharp and acute in arts and sciences, but has a dull, 
poor apprehension of his duty and relation to God, 
of the value of piety, or the worth of moral virtue, 
he may very justly be reckoned to have a bad un- 
derstanding. He is but like the man, that can only 
see and hear such things as are of no benefit to him. 

7. To proceed ; we know how our blessed Lord 
acted in a human body; it was his meat and drink, 
to do the will of his Father whichis in heaven. «_ 

And if any number of heavenly spirits were to 
leave their habitations in the light of God, and be 

fora while united to human bodies, they would 
certainly tend towards God in all their actions, and 


v 


— Bical 5 nan! ll 
Pa i ris ; 
250 _ A SERIOUS CALL - 
be as heavenly as they could, in a state of flesh and 
blood. a re ie, * 
They would certainly act in this manner, because 
they would know that God was the only good of all 
spirits; and that whether he the body, 
or out of the body, in heaven, or On earth, they 
must have every degree of their greatness and hap- 


Pl 


Q 


piness from God alone. — | 

All human spirits therefore, the a exalted 
they are, the more they know their divine original, 
the nearer they come to_heavenly spirits, the more 
will they live to God in all their actions, making 
their whole life a state of devotion, = 

Devotion therefore, is the greatest sign of a great 
and noble genius, it supposes a soul in its highest 
state of knowledge; and none but little and’ Blind- 

ed minds, that are sunk into ignorance and vanity, 
are destitute of it. -. 
8. Ifa human spirit should imagine some mighty 
prince to be greater than God, we should take it 
for a poor, ignorant creature; all people would 
acknowledge such an imagination to be the height 
of stupidity. 

But if this same human spirit, shouldifhink it bet- 
ter to be devoted to some mighty prince, thai to be 
devoted to God, would not this still be a greater 
proof of a poor, ignorant, and blinded nature? ~ 

Yet this is what all people do, who think any 

thing better, greater, or wiser, than a t Li 


‘out life. 
So that which way soever we consider this mat- 
ter, it plainly appears, that devotion is an instance 
of great judgment, of an elevated nature; andthe ~ 
want of devotion isa certain proof of the want of — 
understanding. ok i“ om 
The greatest spirits of the heathen world, such as — 
Pythagoras, Socrates, Plato, Epictetus, Marcus An= 
tonius, owed all their greatness to the spirit of de- 


votion. . 


cer . ' 


TO A HOLY LIFE. 251 


-. They were full of God ; their wisdom and deep 
contemplations tended only to deliver men from the 
vanity of the world, the slavery of bodily passions, 
that they might act as spirits that came from God, 
and were soon to return to him. 

9. Let libertines but grant that there is a God, 
and a providence, and then they have granted 
enough to justify the wisdom, and support the 
honour of devotion. 

For if there is an infinitely wise and good Crea- 
tor, in whom we live, move, and have our being, 
whose providence governs ail things in all places, 
surely it must be the highest act of our understand- 
ing to conceive rightly of him; it must be the no- 
blest instance of judgment, the most exalted tem- 
per of our nature, to worship and adore this univer- 
sal providence, to conform to its laws, to study its 
wisdom, and to live and act every where, as in the 
presence of this infinitely good and wise Creator. 

Now he that lives thus, lives in the spirit of devo- 
tion. 

And what can shew such great parts, and so 
fine an understanding, as to live in this temper? 

For if God is wisdom, surely he must be’ the 
wisest man in the world, who most conforms te the 
wisdom of God, who best obeys his providence, 
who enters farthest into his designs; and does’ all 
he can, that God’s will may be done on earth, as it 
is done in heaven.. 

10. Adeyout man makes a true use of his reason ; 
he seesthrough the vanity of the world, discovers 
the corruption of his nature, and the blindness of 
his passions. He lives by a law which is not visi- 
ble to vulgar eyes; he enters into the world) of 
spirits ;he compares the greatest things, sets eter- 
nity against time ; and chooses rather to be for 


ever great in the presence of God when he dies, 


eo . - Ta ane 


Te : ei + sp he 
252 _ A SERIOUS CALL 4s Me 
' thant bye eg hare of mee 

whilst. he lives. ; ’ pea 


11. La: oura id enor 
d seem to signify an helene spirit; 


great so 
‘but yet humility, which seems to ‘ the lowest, 
ertain argu- 


meanest part of devotion, is a 
mentofanoblemind. 

For humility contends with greater emies 
more constantly engaged, more ntly assax 
suffers more and requires greater courag 
port itself, than any instances of worldly ieaee 

- Aman that dares be poor and contemptibl 
= 


the eyes of the world, to approve him 
that resists and rejects all human glo op- 
poses the clamour of his passions, pee A 
up all injuries, and dares stay for reward til 
the invisible hand of God gives to every one t eir 
pr s, endures a much greater trial, and 
exerts a nobler fortitude, than he that is bold ai 
daring in the fire of battle. . 
For the boldness ofa soldier, if he is a er 
to the spirit of devotion, is rather weakn an 
fortitude ; it is at best but mad passion, and heated 
spirits, and has no more true valour in it ‘ome the 
fry of a tyger. if 
Reason is our universal law, that ob! 
all places and all times; and no actic 
honour, but so far as they are inst 
obedience toreason. Ps 
“And it is as base to be bold and daring 
the principle of reason and justice, 
and daring in lying and perjury. 
_ Would we therefore exercise a true fortit ye 
must do all in the sping? of devotion, be valian 


against he corruptions of the world, and the | sts 
of the flesh, and the temptations of the devil: f 
to be daring and courageous against these enemies 


® i 4 
a + a : 


_¥ ; : + eth iis ) aS 4 


ot ry . 
- Be ae eS 


“ nf Bowe mare, 


eae I 
devotion to be 


¥ 


~ tain ents white of greatness, Bee or fend 
ry, are but ty ‘sounds; and there is nothing 
ise, he ee noble in ¢ eset spirit, but 

ow, and heartily. ei, and adore 

great God, thatis the support and life of all 


. of al 
spirits, whether i in heaven or on earth. 
Pn * : ey +3 + ot 
“deal Ws ae 
iin i, is 
| a 


THE END, * 


a ats 
he 


in ee 


CONTENTS. “ 
CHAPTER I. 


ConcERNING the nature and extent of Christian devotion, 


CHAPTER II. 


An enquiry into.the reason why the generality of Christians 
fall so short of the holiness and devotion of Christianity. 11 


CHAPTER Ill. 


Of the great danger and folly of not iitending to be as emi- 
nent as we can, in the practice of all Christian virtues. 18 


CHAPTER IV. 


We can please God in no state or employment, but by intend- 
ing and devoting itall toe his glory. . vt.) nn 


CHAPTER VY. i 


Persons that are free from the necessity of labour and em- 
ployments, are to consider themselves as devoted to God in 
a ticher depree.* °° Ue BSR les ae a 


CHAPTER VI. 


How the imprudent use of an estate corrupts all the tem- 
pers, and fills the heart with poor and ridiculous passions : 
represented in the characterofFlavia. .. ©.  . 57 


CHAPTER VII. 


How the wise and pious use of an estate carrieth us to all 
the virtues of the Christian life ; represented in the char- 
acter of Miranda. : F . a ; ‘ : 64 


CHAPTER VIII. y 
Shewing that alkane of men and women, ofallagesare 
obliged te devote themselyestoGod. . . . «= 8 


oe 


‘She Ww great devotion fills ives with thet afedts | 
est 2 and happiness team Benjy ein i el 


CHAPTER x ; 


The happiness of alife wholly dévoted unto God, farther 
proved, from the vanity, and the ridiculous, poor enjoy- : 
ments which they are forced to take up with, who live aS 
according to theirown humours. This 1 ted in 

_ various characters. A Pe te ae 


: CHAPTER XI. ~ % 

That not only a life of vanity, or ees but even the 
most regular kind of life, that is not governed by great 
devotion, sufficiently shews its miseries, its wants, and 
emptiness to the eyes of all the world. This represent- 

‘edimvariouscharacters. -.- + + «= «. 121 


e* CHAPTER XII. 


Concerning that part of devotion which relates to times and 
hours of prayer. Of daily early prayer in the morning. 
How we may improve our forms of prayer, and increase 
the spirit of devotion. - - - - - -+ 4134 


CHAPTER XIH. 


Recommending devotion at nine o’clock im the mo 
calledin scripture the third hour of the day. The “ 
ject of these prayers may be humility 


Shewing how the education which tien generally receive, — 
makes the doctrines of humility difficult to be practised. — 
The spiritof a better education represented in the char- — 
acterofPatermus, - - -  - = - - 7 


CHAPTER XV. 


i ioe bow Wisteetiod of educating daughters, 
difficult for them to enter into the spirit of | rant 


4 


“ety. Piow ites ip they 2 
__—s- Such an education. Thes irit 
oe ) Pesentedin the character of Eusebia. 


F 


(CHAPTER XVI. 


, Seer ion at twelve o’clock, called in serip- 
_ ture the sixth hour of the day. This fre uency of devo- ‘ 
tion equally desirable by all orders of people. Universal 
love is recommender 0 be the subject of prayer at this 
SS tnk Of intercession, 48 an act of universal love. ~ 202. 


CHAPTER XV. ~~ 


of the necessity and benefit of intercession, considé re 
an exercise of universal love. - How all rs of nen - 
to intercede with God for one another. 
cession amends and reforms the heart. 


CHAPTER X os 


A = A a : be i 

Recommending devotion at le: ip 
ture the ninth hour of the aes 

this hour may be resignation to the divine pl 

The nature and duty of conformity to the will of 

all our actions and designs. of yal Se: Ca aa 


CHAPTER XIX. . 
Of the excellency and greatness of a devout spirit. . 25 


ia 


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